I Volunteer As Tribute
by TheFlameRose
Summary: That day, before Katniss could recover from the two words that came from the mouth of the terrible Effie Trinket, I had surged forward, shoving everyone out of my way, and threw myself at Prim, shouting out the four words that sealed my fate. "I volunteer as tribute!" OC/Multiple People. Rated T for a reason. Please review! :)
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys. If you're reading this, Yay! I hope you enjoy what is to come. That's my goal, anyway.

This is my second FanFiction (the first for an awesome show called Adventure Time) and I hope it isn't _too_ bad.

Hope ya'll enjoy :D

ONTO THE STORY

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does...sadly :(

* * *

That day.

That day, the sun had been shining. The birds had been singing. There hadn't been a cloud in the sky. Visually, it had been a perfect day. Beautiful, even.

But that day, was the worst day of my life.

Reaping Day.

It's the day when one girl and one boy were picked to participate in the Hunger Games. In the higher-up districts, this meant a chance for glory, for fame, and for fortune. Back here in the lower districts, it was a one-way ticket to the slaughter house.

Why did _she_ have to get picked? Out of a thousand different scraps of paper, when she had written her name down only _once_, how had _she_ gotten _picked_?

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

That day had started out the same as any other day, with me caring for my family as best as I could while trying to keep food on the table. Sure, we could always go to the market to get it, but it was so much more expensive than at the Hob. Especially when your family is one from the Seam.

My house was on the very edge of the Seam, and was occupied by my mother, father, little brother, and my little sister. We were one of the poorest families in the entirety of District 12. My mother was forced to go and try hard labor in the mines, ever since the explosion that had happened five years ago.

My father had gone down to the mines like he had done every other day for years. Lily, Luke and I had been at school, learning the same things we did every year. It was just another day.

But then again, it wasn't.

The explosion had been so loud, and so powerful, that it shook the entire school building, causing many students to freak out. I hadn't. I'd known exactly what had happened, and I had already found the twins when the teachers started evacuating us.

Many men and women had made it out of that godforsaken mine, including my father, but with a price. Some had burns all over their bodies, leaving them just a few minutes to tell their loved ones goodbye. Others had missing limbs, like my father. He had lost his right arm that day, which had crippled him significantly.

Some families hadn't been as lucky.

A girl in my year, a girl in my own neighborhood, had lost more that day than anyone. Her name, was Katniss Everdeen. Her father had died in that accident, his body too dismembered to even find all the pieces. And even though she didn't shed a single tear, I knew exactly how badly she had been hurting on the inside. She was just too prideful to cry in front of strangers.

Her little sister was in my siblings' year, and she had been nothing like her sister. She had bawled, her whole face crumbling as she fell to her knees in sobs. Her mother's face had gone totally blank, her eyes distant and cold.

But, even though she had gone through all of that, I couldn't bring myself to pity Katniss. If anything, I envied her.

Her father had been able to break free from the confines of this poor excuse of a district. He'd been able to know what fresh air tasted like, how to actually find peace even in the most troubling of times. And he'd taken Katniss with him, sharing with her the wonders of beyond the fence.

It wasn't exactly a well-kept secret she hunted illegally. Especially since a lot of people bought the game she brought in at the Hob on a regular basis, myself included.

And since we lived so close together, I had been able to rise at the brink of dawn and watch her creep under the fence from the safety of my window. The look of pure bliss on her face when she walked into those woods was what made the envy burn the hottest.

One day, I decided to follow her, just so I could prove to myself that I could do it. And when I crept under the barrier that was ever present and ever menacing, I hadn't been scared. I'd felt wonderful. I'd felt _free_. It was the most amazing feeling I could ever imagine.

When I went back home that day, I'd felt accomplished and content, two things I hadn't felt in a long time. I'd only taken from the woods what Katniss had, trusting her knowledge of the plant life. For once in a long time, I'd been able to fill my siblings bellies full, something we hadn't even accomplished when Dad had worked down in those damned mines.

I never told them where I had gotten the berries or the spices, but I knew that they had a sneaking suspicion of where I had. They never questioned it, though, and for that, I was grateful. Because even though the Peacekeepers buy the game from the Hob, it was still illegal.

Ever since that day, I'd followed Katniss into the woods, learning how to do things ranging from how to determine what plant is edible or not, to skinning animals without wasting any meat. I became a mere whisper in the woods, moving so expertly that I could even sneak up on animals.

One day, instead of eating by myself like I usually did, I approached Katniss, something that _nobody_ did, except for the mayor's daughter. She'd looked up at me coldly, her signature scowl set in place. But I had smiled. She was somewhat of a hero for me, for being so strong for her family and that older boy's.

So I had asked her to teach me even more. I asked her if she could show me how to hunt, and how to know what berries were good and what weren't. I was tired of just watching. Besides, even I knew it was kinda creepy.

She had been shocked when I asked her, her eyes wide as she realized I knew she hunted. If only she had known.

Somehow, I had managed to convince her to properly teach me. My little brother and sister had become close friends with Prim, Katniss' sister, in the process, and I think that may have helped convince her.

She introduced me to Gale Hawthorne, and I couldn't figure out why all the girls were so into him. Sure, he wasn't lacking in the looks department, but the way he was so grouchy all the time ruined it. He tolerated me enough to talk to me, but not much more than that. The feeling was mutual.

I'd known as soon as I caught sight of them together that he had liked Katniss. It was obvious. Too bad Katniss was blind to things like that.

Soon, we became an unstoppable trio that helped feed the Seam. We would always split the spoils evenly, but secretly I would slip more into Gale's pile. He had more mouths to feed, after all.

It had been amazing. They were by far the best years of my life. My family had gone from skeleton thin and deteriorating, to lean and full. Luke and Lily had even gotten a little pudgy. My mother stopped working in the mines and started to work with Gale's instead, and together earned even more money. But we only kept enough to support our families. Not a penny more.

Instead, we used it to help our fellow Seam families. It wasn't much, but it seemed to be good enough.

Never once did I regret meeting Katniss Everdeen. It was like she had become my sister, a cold, moody sister, but a sister nonetheless.

So, when Primrose Everdeen's name was called, my world crumbled. I knew how it would all fall out. Katniss would volunteer to take her place, Gale would freak, and then Katniss would never make it back home again. Prim would be devastated, and then our families would drift apart. Everything would go back to what it was before.

I knew how it would feel like if Lily had been picked. And that was one of the most awful feelings ever.

That day.

That day had been the worst day of my life.

That day, before Katniss could recover from the two words that came from the mouth of the terrible Effie Trinket, I had surged forward, shoving everyone out of my way, and threw myself at Prim, shouting out the four words that sealed my fate.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

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**A/N:** Did you like it? Hope so.

I worked hard on this!

If you're into Adventure Time, why don't you hit up my other story, Another Human? (Shameless self-promoting)

Would be nice if ya did :3

Thank you for your time, and please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again, my wonderful readers, to chapter 2 of my story :)

I know this isn't what some of you wanted, but I felt as though this needed to be put out first. Is that alright? I hope so.

See ya when you're done reading!

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Otherwise, I would be rich. And I'm not. Sadly :/

* * *

**FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER**

_That day, before Katniss could recover from the two words that came from the mouth of the terrible Effie Trinket, I had surged forward, shoving everyone out of my way, and threw myself at Prim, shouting out the four words that sealed my fate._

_"I volunteer as tribute!"_

* * *

My shout of desperation was met with complete silence as the people of Panem watched, stunned.

"I volunteer as tribute," I said, quieter this time.

Prim's eyes welled up with tears as she looked up at me. "No…" She whispered, shaking her head. Katniss stared at me in shock and horror as the Peacekeepers descended on us, trying to pry Prim from my arms.

"Stop!" Prim shouted, but I hushed her.

"Go, Prim. Go back to Katniss. I'll be fine," I smiled, faking my confidence entirely.

Her face crumbled and the tears fell, but she nodded. She walked back over to Katniss and the other female candidates stiffly, looking over her shoulder at me every other step. Right then, I knew I had made the right decision.

"Well, it appears we have a volunteer! How wonderful!" Effie Trinket bubbled, her face lit up at the prospect. It took all I had in me to not gag at the absolute joy on her face. She was just like Them.

The Peacekeepers prodded and shoved me forward, forcing me over to the stairs that led up to the stage. I grit my teeth and bore through it, going up two steps before turning and glaring daggers at them. They really were bastards.

I stepped next to the eye-sore of a woman and stopped, keeping my face in check. I don't think I was able to hide my anger that well, since Effie backed up a step when she looked at me.

She chuckled nervously into the microphone and composed herself, reverting back to what she knew best.

Being fake.

"Hello, my dear!" She said cheerily in her ridiculously high-pitched voice, all smiles. "I bet my buttons that was your sister over there, wasn't it?"

"No, but she might as well should be," I said softly, turning my head to look at her and Katniss. They were clutching each other, and I saw the regret and relief warring in Katniss' eyes as she met my gaze. I smirked at her, trying to show her that she shouldn't feel any regret for my actions.

"Oh," Effie deadpanned, obviously shocked that the first volunteer in the history of District 12 wasn't related to the person she volunteered for. "Well then, would you like to tell us your name? Hmm?" She inquired, leaning towards me with the microphone.

"Laurel Dainton," I replied confidently. Everyone in Panem would see this sooner or later, and that included the other tributes. And I couldn't look weak in front of them. That would be suicide.

"Splendid!" She exclaimed, clamping her hands together. "Now, let's see who our boy tribute will be this year!"

I stiffened up as she lightly walked over to the boys' bowl, two names swirling wildly in my head. _Please, if there is any God out there; don't let her pick Luke or Gale…_

"Emery Grimmins!" She called, that plastic smile still plastered all over her face as she eagerly searched the crowd for this unfortunate boy.

A stone-faced boy emerged from the seventeen-year-olds' section, and I could tell right away that he was from the Seam. He was taller than Gale, but not by much, and that was really saying something. His coal black hair was untrimmed and messily framed his face, and his stormy grey eyes were blank as he ascended the stairs. He stopped about three feet away from me, and I could see recognition in his eyes, but I held none for him.

"Any volunteers?" Effie shouted excitedly, thinking that she could actually get another person to willingly go to their death.

You could have heard a pin drop.

A little put-off but not entirely upset, Effie gestured for the mayor to begin reading the Treaty of Treason, as he did every year. Emery and I were motioned to stand beside Effie as the mayor prattled on about something or other that was too boring to really concentrate on. I glanced over at our only living victor, Haymitch Abernathy, who was currently drunk off his rocker, as he staggered over to us.

Just as Mayor Undersee was finishing up, Haymitch let out a belch that could have blown my hair straight back, it was that powerful. Effie was startled and nearly tripped over her own heels as Haymitch wrapped his arm around her, confused on where he was, but happy to be there. A wonderful role-model, eh?

Abandoning Effie momentarily, he stumbled over to Emery and me. He slapped Emery on his back and boisterously laughed; throwing his head back like it was the funniest thing he had ever done. I looked at him incredulously. Nothing was even remotely funny about our situation.

"You know, kid, I see a lot of ma-self in you!" He smirked, poking Emery in the chest. "You're all serious! Maybe you should lighten up for a lil' bit!" Emery just stared at him, an eyebrow raised.

"And you!" He said, nearly falling to the ground when he tripped over his own feet trying to wrap his arm around my shoulders. "You gotta lotta guts! I like that in a girl!" He hiccupped, smiling deliriously.

But there was something about his eyes that I couldn't put my finger on. They weren't cloudy, like that of an actual drunk person. They were bright and clear, and staring pointedly at me. And he didn't smell like alcohol.

But before I could say anything about it, his face morphed into a scowl, and he turned to the crowd.

"She's got more guts than you!" He shouted, pointing at the audience. "More than you! More than you! More than you!"

I don't know who he was going to point to next, but before he could, he plummeted off the end of the stage, knocking himself out cold.

The mayor pinched the skin between his eyebrows, obviously distressed by this turn of events. He already knows we're the laughing stock of the Districts, and Drunk Haymitch being Drunk Haymitch hadn't helped. He was whisked away on a stretcher, the cameras following his every movement for extra effect. I couldn't help but wonder whether his stunt had been real, or fake.

Using the moment of distraction, I closed my eyes and let a silent tear fall, brushing it away as quickly as it had come. There was no need to make myself easier prey than I probably already was.

After the whole fiasco is over and done with, Mayor Undersee motions for Emery and I to shake hands. His grasp is strong, and it almost hurts as we shake. But I was not one well-known to back down from a challenge, so I squeezed his hand as hard as I could in return. My eyes flashed with a little bit of the anger I was holding in, and it hopefully made me look more intimidating. I was rewarded by a curious quirk of his eyebrow.

We released each other and turned back to the crowd. Effie adjusted her hair and grinned, a genuine twinkle of glee in her eyes. It sickened me.

"And now, please give a round of applause to our latest tributes! May the odds be ever in your favor!" She added after a second, smiling at us. I glared in response.

The thing that happened next was something I never expected to happen.

No one clapped.

Not a _single person_.

Instead, one by one, the people in the crowd touched their three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips, and held them out to me. I was beyond stunned.

Never had I thought this District cared about me. Sure, I helped feed some of the less fortunate in the Seam, but I didn't think they actually cared. Was it because I took Prim's place? Had protecting someone I cared for like a sister meant I was special, that I was someone to be treasured?

Whatever the reason, I couldn't help but feel at peace as I stared out at my people.

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**A/N: **You like? I like :)

Next chapter will be different POV's of the first chapter! I think...At least, i'll try :P

As always, please review! Happiness=Reviews!

:P


	3. Chapter 3

Aaaaaand I finished Chapter 3 :)

How are ya'll liking it so far? Is it good? Okay? Super amazing? Awesome :)

*Note* In this story, Finnick is a tribute and he's 16 again, okay? okay.

ONTO THE STORY!

* * *

**FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER**

_Never had I thought this District cared about me. Sure, I helped feed some of the less fortunate in the Seam, but I didn't think they actually cared. Was it because I took Prim's place? Had protecting someone I cared for like a sister meant I was special, that I was someone to be treasured?_

_Whatever the reason, I couldn't help but feel at peace as I stared out at my people._

* * *

**Gale's POV**

I stiffened when I heard her call Primrose's name. My first thought went to Katniss, and I bit my lip, knowing exactly what she was going to do next. I had spent years with her, learning all of her wishes and all of her fears, and what she would do if anything would ever happen to Prim. I clenched my fists tightly and waited for her to call out the words that would take her away from me forever.

But there was a change. Something completely unexpected happened, at least to me.

Movement caused the crowd to ripple and split as someone shoved their way through. My eyes widened as Laurel ran lithely forward, graceful even when she wasn't out hunting in the woods, and crashed into Prim, volunteering herself for her place.

My jaw dropped and I stared, disbelieving, at the determined look on her face. She was serious. She was going to take Prim's place so Katniss didn't have to. She was going to sacrifice her life for her friend's.

Something changed in my head, and now I saw Laurel in a new light. No longer was she the annoying brat that butted her way into hunting with Katniss and me. No longer was she the little girl I always considered her as. No longer was she just someone I only tolerated because Katniss cared for her.

Now, she was a woman. And she changed my whole perspective of her, and the friendship we shared. I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it in her after all these years.

~OoOoO~

**Prim's POV**

I looked up at Laurel, tears welling up in my eyes. She was so strong, so fierce. She was so much like Katniss. I held her as close as I could and cried over the unfairness of it all. She didn't deserve this. I wished she had never volunteered, even if that meant I had to go into the Games. At least then she would be able to look after my sister, Luke, and Lily another day.

"No…" I whispered, staring into her deep blue eyes that rivaled even mine. She couldn't go. She just _couldn't_.

The Peacekeepers surrounded us, grabbing at my arms to pry me away from her.

"Stop!" I shouted, struggling to stay close to Laurel for a little bit longer. She looked down at me, and I got to see a glimpse of the sadness she was hiding behind her cool exterior.

"Go, Prim. Go back to Katniss. I'll be fine," she smiled, putting on the brave face that used to reassure me. Not anymore. But I couldn't help but do as I was told.

I nodded, but that didn't stop me from sobbing as I walked back over at Katniss. I looked back every other step, trying to memorize her face and how she looked at me with such love and sadness that I thought you could only be blood-related to have.

I vowed right then that I would do everything in my power to help Laurel and her family, no matter what would happen next.

And I meant it.

~OoOoO~

**Katniss' POV**

I clutched Prim to me, relief swarming me that she didn't have to go into the Games. But with that relief came regret. I had just stood there, stunned that they had called Prim's name. I couldn't think. I couldn't protect Prim. I couldn't stop my best friend from taking her place.

I hadn't known Laurel was going to volunteer. She wasn't _supposed _to! It was _my _responsibility to take care of Prim, not hers. She had two siblings of her own she had to take care of! How could she do that if she died in the Games? No, she couldn't die. She couldn't. There was no way. She was too strong.

I watched her ascend the stairs, even chuckled a bit when she glared at the Peacekeepers. But I couldn't get rid of the shard of dread that lodged itself into my heart at the possibility she would never come back home.

Then, she looked straight at me, like she could see right through me and straight into my soul, and she smirked. That smirk said everything words could not. Like she was trying to tell me it was going to be okay, and that she didn't want me to worry about her.

I clutched Prim closer and watched the rest of the Reaping in silence, feeling like I was eleven years old again and that they were telling me that my father hadn't made it out of the mines alive.

~OoOoO~

**Haymitch's POV**

I stood in the shadows, ready to make my debut as Drunk Haymitch once again for the freaks of the Capitol. Sometimes, I really wanted to be exactly what everyone thought I was; an old drunk with nothing left to really care for. I would be able to forget all the shit I've had to go through all these years of mentoring, all the tributes I've watched die in brutal and ugly ways. And I would be able to forget _her. _Maysilee Donner.

But I never did.

I only played the part, so no one would suspect me. Even though I had won the Hunger Games and physically left, I had never _really _left. Every day was like being in the Arena, every new event a challenge I had to face. I couldn't be drunk if I wanted to actually win. That wasn't how things worked.

I thought I knew exactly how things would go down this day. Two scrawny little kids would get reaped, I would stagger on stage like I was drunk, molest Effie for a bit, and then babble on and on about nothing. Just like every year since I'd won.

I didn't once think in a million years I would get the curve ball that was named Laurel Dainton.

She was different from all the other tributes from years past. She had that determination, that _fire_ in her eyes as she volunteered for the little girl's place. She wasn't scrawny, but lean, and she wasn't little, she was grown. The way she rushed to the little girl and protected her from the Peacekeepers was…Surprising.

I smiled. Maybe this year…_Just maybe_…I could finally bring one back home.

~OoOoO~

**Finnick's POV**

I stretched, groaning in satisfaction when my back popped. I plopped down on the couch in our train compartment and messed with the TV, trying to find something decent to watch out of all the Capitol crap. I couldn't really care for the Hunger Games, but now that I had to participate, I realized I actually had to pay attention to some of the shows they had on about them.

Sighing in defeat, I clicked on the Reapings. At the very least I'd get to check out the competition this year.

They were just finishing up with District 11, and I frowned when I saw that the boy tribute was just a little twelve year old. It was sad that they had to go in so young, since they never stood a chance against all of us careers.

I rolled my eyes and was about to change the channel when something interesting happened. Another twelve-year-old was picked, just a wisp of a girl, and I honestly felt bad for her. Judging by the fear in her eyes, I decided she wouldn't even make it through the bloodbath. Then, a ripple formed in the crowd of sixteen-year-olds, and a girl ran forward, to the little girl, and volunteered.

I sat forward and watched; my eyes glued to the screen as she calmed the little girl down and took her place.

"She must be her sister," I muttered, thinking that I had her figured out. But then, she announced that she wasn't the little girl's sister, and I was left confused. Everyone knew the lower Districts didn't think the Hunger Games were a place of glory, but instead as a quicker way to die.

So why would she volunteer for someone if it meant she would die?

~OoOoO~

**Cato's POV**

I felt exhilarated as I paced around my train compartment. It was like I could take on the world, and then win. Volunteering had made me even more of a threat than I already was, and word was already getting around about the Brutal, Bloody, Cato Wynters.

"Already getting full of yourself, Cato?" Clove snorted as she sharpened her knives. "The Games haven't even started yet."

"I'm not full of myself, I just happen to see the perfection that is myself more than anyone else," I shrugged, flexing my muscles to prove my point. Clove rolled her eyes.

"You just basically agreed to being full of yourself." She shook her head. Taking aim, she started throwing her knives at the wall, hitting every single one of her targets without so much as blinking wrong. Even though Clove was small, that didn't mean she wasn't deadly. And I wasn't going to forget that.

"And now, we're live at District 12!" Caesar Flickerman announced, shooting the camera a wink. "Let's see what they have in store for us this year."

"There's not going to be any real threats from that District," Clove rolled her eyes. "They never do. You might as well change the channel." I scowled at her.

"I thought you were better trained than that. How'd the academy even consider you for volunteering this year if you were so stupid?" I growled, even though I knew the answer. Her knives. And her personality. Both were lethal and not too pleasant.

"Hey!" She shouted, daring to throw one of her knives at me in her anger. I easily dodged it, but that wasn't the point. I knew how easily she could turn on me if she wanted to, and I was going to remember that when I slept with one eye open in the Arena.

"I volunteer as tribute!" A girl yelled from the TV, clutching the blond child who wouldn't have stood a chance no matter how many sponsors she got. I shot Clove the _I-told-ya-so _look and turned to watch the screen more intently.

"It appears someone has stepped up and volunteered this year," Claudius Templesmith commented, obviously taken aback by this new development. Caesar was just as surprised as they stared at the footage of the girl as she took the stage, glaring at her Peacekeepers as she went.

"Huh. You think she'll be a threat, Cato?" Clove inquired, sitting down on the couch. My eyes never leaving the girls' face, I turned to Clove, deciding to lie through my teeth, which apparently I was very good at.

"Just another District 12 rat. Nothing to worry about."

But there was. Her blue eyes were alight with a fire as she stared down the camera, her long black hair seeming to float around her as she stood there against the world. She would be a threat, there was no denying that, and for some reason, it made me smile.

* * *

**A/N:** Well, that was fun :D

Please review and let me know what you think! Are the POVs in-character? Are they believable? I don't know. Please tell me!

Next chapter will be the dreaded Goodbyes! Get prepared for anything!

Spread the love, not hate. Review my story today :)

P.S. Thank you to all the people who have reviewed this so far (squirmyorchid, Lovely Lexie, Tess, and 74hgpeetakatniss) You guys rock ;) (also the peeps who reviewed for chapter 1! Thanks!)

P.S.S. Thanks for the advice Lovely Lexie! I'll keep it in mind :)


	4. Chapter 4

Well, we've made it to chapter 4. Be prepared for some family drama in this installment of 'I Volunteer As Tribute'!

Thanks for taking the time to read this story :3

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: Never in the history of the universe will I ever own The Hunger Games. But, I do own Laurel Dainton and her family :D And Emery, but he's not the lead part here, now is he?

* * *

**FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER**

_There were different POVs of Laurel's volunteering. This included Katniss, Prim, Gale, Haymitch, Cato, and Finnick's. So...yeah. Enjoy!_

* * *

The Peacekeepers filed onto the stage, ready to escort us to the Capitol Building where we were to say our goodbyes. I noted with a smirk that even though they were staying pretty close to make sure we wouldn't try to escape they gave me a little more space than normal.

Emery and I walked side by side, and I couldn't help but glance up at his face to see if I had any of the recollection he seemed to have for me. His rough features were that of a typical Seam boy, but he was much more well-nourished than most of them. Had I talked to him once? Had we been partnered up for a project at school or something? Where could I have possibly seen him before...?

We entered the Capitol Building, and I couldn't help but stare at all the refined and expensive things that lined the walls of the building. I would never be able to afford such things in my entire lifetime- no matter how short that time was now cut. Emery seemed to be thinking the same thing as his eyes darted around the hallways.

The Peacekeepers spilt up; half of them taking Emery down one direction, the other half taking me down the other. My eyes started to burn as I realized how short of time I would have to say goodbye to my family, and the reality of what I had just gotten myself into came crashing down on me in waves. They couldn't show me my room fast enough.

I sat down on the velvet couch that was positioned in the middle of the room and closed my eyes, willing the tears away. I couldn't cry. Not yet. All I had to do was make it to the train, and then I could lock myself in my room and cry my eyes out for as long as I wanted. Just _not now_.

The door opened with a groan, causing my eyes to flash open. I looked at the door expecting my family to be standing there, but instead, there was a blonde boy holding a small sack in his hands. I stood up, my brow furrowed. Who was this boy?

"Hello," he said with a small smile and a wave. I just stared back. He cleared his throat.

"Um, I know you probably don't know me, but I know you…Ugh, that sounds creepy, doesn't it," he sighed, rubbing his face in frustration.

"Look, I just wanted to stop by and let you know how much I appreciate you volunteering for Prim. If Katniss had gone…" He looked away. I grit my teeth, a little peeved he only came here to tell me how glad he was Katniss wasn't going into the Hunger Games.

"I brought you some small cakes and candy from my bakery in town…I know it's not much, but I just wanted to let you know how thankful I am to you. I'll…see myself out." He handed me the bag and turned to go.

"So that's it?" I asked, crossing my arms. He stopped, looking over his shoulder with a confused expression.

"What do you mean?" I rolled my eyes and set the bag down.

"So you come here, compliment me, give me candy, and you don't even tell me your name? Where did you learn your manners from?" I scoffed. He balked and turned back to me, completely surprised that I would talk to him that way.

"I-It's Peeta, Peeta Mellark."

"Nice to meet you, Peeta," I said, holding out my hand. He blinked and stared at it. I snickered.

"What, you've never shuck hands before?" His face burned and he frowned at me. He stuck his hand out and roughly shook my hand, avoiding eye-contact. I chuckled.

"Goodbye, Peeta Mellark. May the odds be ever in your favor…" I trailed off as he walked out the door. I sighed, sitting back down. I briefly wondered how he had gotten past my parents to be the first person to see me, but I just as soon forgot he even existed when the innocent faces of the twins poked their heads through the doorway.

"Lily, Luke," I whispered, holding my arms out invitingly. They pushed the door open all the way and rushed towards me, throwing themselves into my arms at full-force. Lily sobbed into my neck while Luke hugged me fiercely, never wanting to let me go. I stroked their hair lovingly, kissing both of their heads.

My mother and father entered the room right after them, and for the first time in my life, I saw my father crying. I disengaged myself from my siblings and approached them, digging my nails into my palm to keep calm.

"Laurel…" My father started gruffly, tears welling up in his bright blue eyes. He had been a town kid who had married a coal miner's daughter, AKA my mother. That was why I had black hair, but blue eyes.

"How could you do this?" He continued, anger starting to creep into his features. "How could you damn yourself to death for a stupid little girl?!" He shouted, clenching his only hand into a fist. I stared at him, wide-eyed.

My mother gasped, putting her hand on his shoulder to calm him down. He shrugged off her hand and took a step closer to me, jabbing one of his fingers into my face.

"What the Hell were you thinking, Laurel?! How could you do this to your family? We need you! Why do you have to be so fucking selfless?! Think about your family for once! To Hell with that stupid fucking girl!"

"Dad!" I yelled, horrified at the words he was spewing out. He had never cussed in front of the children since they were born. Lily sniffled and grabbed onto Luke, who was glaring at our father in outrage.

"Leave her alone!" Luke shouted, dragging Lily over to my side. "She didn't do anything wrong, Dad! She saved Prim's life!"

"I don't give a shit about Prim!" He screamed at Luke, backhanding him across the face. Mother screamed, Lily screamed, and Luke fell to his knees in shock.

Horror and rage intermingled in my blood, giving me an adrenaline rush that only came when I was out in the woods, about to make a kill. I lunged at my own father, using the element of surprise to my advantage as I tackled him to the ground. I gripped his shoulders and shook him, trying to get some sense into him. He had never laid a finger on anybody, no matter how angry he got at them. Especially his children.

"Jack! Laurel!" My mother cried, holding her face as tears poured down and she panicked. Lily and Luke clung to her dress, Luke's entire face turning a bright red from the slap.

"Get off of me," my father growled, tears welling in his hate-filled eyes. I shook my head and grabbed his face, leaning in close.

"I had to do this, Dad. I couldn't let Prim die. You know I couldn't. You can't change anything now. I'm officially a tribute, and I don't regret it. But how could you hurt your own son? How could you _scream _at your own children? I love you, Dad, and I know this hurts, but you shouldn't count me out yet. I'm my father's daughter, and I don't give up in a fight," I grinned. He looked away, squeezing his eyes closed as tears leaked out.

"But if you're going to act like this while I'm away, I'm not going to allow you to go anywhere near Lily, Luke, or Mother. You can't let this get to you. Even if I don't win, just know that I will always love you, alright?" He nodded, and I pulled him in for a hug.

I stood up and adjusted the ivory dress Mother had dressed me in this morning. I held my hand out and helped my father back up, letting go as soon as he was on his feet.

"Luke? Lily? Come here." They exchanged a glance and walked over to me. I gingerly cupped Luke's face and kissed the mark left behind from Dad. He blushed and hugged me, burying his face in my hair. I kissed Lily's forehead and pulled her close, so thankful she hadn't been picked this year.

"I love you both to the moon and back, remember that." We released each other, and I stepped over to Mother.

"Keep working with Katniss' mother, Mom. And don't stop working with Hazel, either. Stay strong, and I'll be back before you know it," I smiled, putting on my brave face. She pulled me close to her bony body and lightly stroked my hair.

"I will, honey. For you, I will," she whispered in my ear.

"You don't know how much I love you all," I whispered back. Then I remembered the bag the Mellark boy had given me.

"Oh! I have something for the kids!" She furrowed her brow.

"You do?" I nodded and let her go; rushing back over to the table where I set the bag. I handed it to Luke with a smile.

"There are some small cakes and candies in there for you, so make sure to split it evenly between you two, alright?" Lily nodded vigorously, her eyes huge. Luke looked up at me and smiled, his grey eyes sparkling.

"Thank you, Laurel," he said as serious as he could be. I smiled, but then froze when the doors were thrown open again.

"Time's up. Everyone out!" A Peacekeeper announced, keeping a wary eye on me.

Lily started to cry again, and Luke attempted to console her. My father gave me a heart-wrenching look, his eyes looking tortured.

"You will win. I know it."

And with that, he exited first, his shoulders shaking as he started to cry again. My mother rounded up the twins and made it to the doorway before looking back.

"We love you, remember that when you're out there, okay?" I nodded, placing a hand on my heart.

"I will."

"Alright, hurry up now! We don't have all day, woman!" She nodded graciously and left, Lily and Luke in tow. I stared at them for as long as I could before the door closed, leaving me in the room all alone.

The door hadn't been closed for one minute before it was opened again, and I stood face-to-face with Katniss Everdeen. We met each other's gaze and stared, not needing words to understand what was going through both of our minds.

"Thank you," she stated quietly, and I knew it meant more than just saving her sister. It was a thank you for everything I had ever done for her, and everything I still planned to do. And getting a thank-you from Katniss Everdeen was one of the hardest things you could ever get in the world.

"You're welcome."

We both nodded at the same time, which caused her to crack a smile. She was so much prettier when she smiled, and it was very rare to witness such a thing. We pulled each other in for a brief hug and held tight, making sure we remembered each other in case I didn't make it back.

"Prim wanted to come, but my mother wanted to be with her. I think Prim getting picked snapped her out of it, Laurel, and maybe now she'll be the mother Prim needs her to be." I could tell by the tone of her voice that she wouldn't need her mother to be her mother, at least, not anymore. She'd already grown up, albeit _way _too early, but I guess that, in a way, I had too.

"Just tell her that it isn't her fault I volunteered, okay?" Katniss nodded. "Oh, and Katniss?" She looked at me expectantly.

"What?" She raised an eyebrow.

"It isn't your fault either. You're needed here. Keep our families fed and safe, okay?" She smirked.

"Sure. Just know I'll be rooting for you, Laurel." I laughed.

"Whatever you say, Katniss."

She looked at the ground, and I watched as the cool façade started to crumble, and a tear leaked out of her eye. My eyes widened and I stared. She was actually _really _worried about me. But, Katniss being Katniss, she put a stop to it, reverting to her usual self by smirking at me with a wink.

"You'll win, Laurie. I know you will." And she was gone.

I walked back over to the couch and sat down, thinking about everything everybody had said. They really thought I could win this. Me, a poor Seam girl whose only friend was the loner of the grade who hated people. There would be tributes from the career districts twice my size ad twice as deadly, so strong they could probably snap my body like a twig if they wanted to.

The door groaned again, and I blinked. Who else could there be? My family had already visited, and so had Katniss. Who else was there?

Gale Hawthorne stood at the entrance of the room, his eyes locked onto me. I froze. Why would _he_ be here? He didn't even like me, since the only reason he even talked to me was because of Katniss. I stood up and took an unsure step closer to him.

"Gale? What are you doing here?" I asked, since he hadn't made a move to come any closer.

"I'm sorry…" He said, looking at me with regret. I blinked and furrowed my brow.

"For what?"

"For not really being your friend, Laurel. All these years…I didn't really see you. And for that, I'm sorry." He strode closer, coming in near-contact with me.

"Look, I know I never said anything when we were out in the woods, but you are a great shot. Use that to your advantage. Get a bow, or make one. Whatever you can do to give you an edge above the others. Get a few knives too, since you're such a great shot with them." He gripped my shoulders.

"You can do this, Laurel Dainton. I believe in you." He pulled me close, and I couldn't help but be uncomfortable by the attention. Why was he acting all weird and nice all the sudden?

"Um, thank you. But…I thought you didn't like me? What's with the big change all of the sudden?" He pulled back and pierced me with his gaze.

"I just realized how much of a jerk I've been all these years, and how much you didn't deserve that."

"Time's up! Get out, kid," the Peacekeeper said, his tone and face portraying his boredom. I glared at him, but then looked back at Gale.

"See ya, Gale," I said, messing up his perfectly placed hair like I normally did to Luke. He snorted and fixed it right away.

"Get outta here!" I shouted playfully, shoving him towards the door.

"Remember what I said," he said solemnly, going with the two Peacekeepers that appeared out of nowhere to help get him out of the room.

"I will!" I called after him, right before the doors closed.

I sat down on the red velvet couch in silence, feeling the air of finality lingering after the click of the door closing. I knew for certain now that there was no one left to visit me. So all that was left to do was wait. And I didn't have to wait long.

The Peacekeepers threw the doors open and marched in, and I quietly went with them. There was no point in denying the inevitable. We were joined by Emery as we went, and I noted with alarm that a black eye was starting to form on his left eye. I touched his shoulder to ask what had happened, when we were plunged back into the daylight, and cameras were _everywhere._

One person tried to get a close-up of my face, and I glared at them, slapping the camera away. The cameraman only grinned and tried to get even more shots of me now that I was pissed. _What kind of animals were these people? _

Surprisingly, Emery came to my rescue, getting in between the cameraman and me to block off his shots. Disgruntled, but not discouraged, he tried to maneuver around Emery unsuccessfully, since he was half his size. Emery smirked, winking at the man mockingly with his good eye. In doing so, he gave half of the females around us a reason to start clicking off pictures like crazy.

I ignored them all, walking faster to try and slip past them onto the train. One woman stepped right in my way, spouting out thousands of questions a mile a minute. I growled at her like an animal and shoved her out of my way, no longer in the mood to play nice. She gasped as her wig went flying, revealing her bald head underneath. The viscous camera people pounced on her, clicking pictures off like crazy as she started to bawl. I sneered at her in disgust and got on the train, the tears already starting to brim again in my eyes.

Emery stepped into the train right after I did, his stormy grey eyes locked onto me. The door closed behind us silently, and I had never been so glad to see a door shut before in my life. Turning away from Emery, I headed down a hall to where I presumed my room was. After asking a servant to show me exactly where it was, I stepped into the room and locked the door after me. I needed to be alone.

I sat down on the overly soft bed and stared at the wall, just letting the tears come. They poured down my face as I sobbed silently. There was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't win the Games. I just didn't have a chance. I lacked all the training, the skill, and the looks it took to actually make it anywhere in the Arena.

Sponsors never sponsored tributes they didn't think were able to win.

I choked, covering my face with my hands as the sobs wracked my thin body. How would Lily and Luke survive without me? Sure, Katniss and Gale could help for a while, but when it came down to it they weren't their responsibility. They didn't have to help them at all. But they would, just for me.

After I was all cried out, I stared at the ceiling, my mind blank. I was drained, emotionally and physically, and all I wanted to do was to fall asleep and wake up back in my own bed, Luke and Lily wrapped in my arms. But I knew it was impossible. I doomed myself to this fate, so I had to own up to it and try to fulfill my promise I made to my family.

There was a rapping on my door, and when I didn't answer they tried the door, letting out a scoff when they figured out it was locked. Then they went back to rapping on the door, twice as harder this time. I sighed, glaring at the door with my slightly puffy eyes.

"What?" I growled, playing tough. There was some drunken laughter from the other side, and I inwardly groaned. Why was Haymitch at my door?

"Time ta eat, Girly! Can't have you starvin' yerself before the big ol' Arena, can we?" He laughed again, and I could hear his heavy footsteps thudding unevenly away. I frowned at the door and stood up.

This wasn't going to be enjoyable.

* * *

**A/N:** And that was Chapter 4! What did ya'll think?

Try to understand, Jack isn't a bad guy. He's just really frustrated that he can't save his eldest daughter from the Hunger Games. Some people would react the same way.

I don't know said people, but I think they exist.

Okay, I don't know if they do or not. Happy?

Thanks to Lovely Lexie, 74hgpeetakatniss, and The Loved and Unloved for your reviews! They make me smile :)

See! I just did it again!

As always, please review! :S

P.S. Did you guys like that this chapter was _soooo_ much longer than the others? It's becoming easier for me to make 'em longer, so let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

Hey guys, TheFlameRose here. Sorry I took so long!

This took a bit, but I hope you enjoy :) Sorry for any typos or anything. My head's not been in the game lately :/

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. I only own Laurel, Emery, Luke, Lily, Jack, and Laurel's mom :)

* * *

**FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER**

_"Time ta eat, Girly! Can't have you starvin' yerself before the big ol' Arena, can we?" He laughed again, and I could hear his heavy footsteps thudding unevenly away. I frowned at the door and stood up._

_This wasn't going to be enjoyable._

* * *

I walked out of my room still wearing my mother's dress, just wanting to feel close to her for as long as I could. Besides, it wasn't dirty or anything, so why not? I'd dabbed my eyes to try and make it look like I hadn't been crying, but I didn't know if it would convince the others. But who really cared? I was just another tribute. Another Seam Rat. Sure, Emery might notice, but he probably would just smirk at the weakness. Nobody would really understand. And why would they want to?

I wandered the hallways until I came upon the dining room, stopping when three sets of eyes landed on me. Effie Trinket smiled politely, patting the seat beside her at the table as if she wanted me to sit next to her. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, reluctantly doing as she requested. She was a little too bright and bubbly for my tastes.

Haymitch had a bottle of clear liquid that he would swig every so often in his hand. You would assume it was filled with alcohol, seeing as he was a considered a drunkard, but when my highly trained nose tried to smell what was in the bottle, there was nothing. No scent at all. Was he faking being a drunk?

And then there was Emery, who had sat there silently, watching our new mentor and our escort in a subdued distain. His black eye hadn't gotten any better since I first saw it a couple hours ago. Maybe after we were done eating whatever it was we were going to eat, I could ask him.

I folded my arms and leaned back, raising an eyebrow as I too examined our only chances of surviving the Arena. If anything, Effie could fool some of the Capitol sheep to sponsor us, but that was only if these people were stupider than her, which might pose as a challenge. Judging by the way Haymitch's eyes followed our every move, he was sizing us up as well. I narrowed my eyes at him and set my jaw.

"Well, at least you brats aren't skeletons this year! Those scrawny things never make it far in the Arena," he snorted, slapping his knee as he chortled. My lip curled in disgust and I increased my glare. He looked up and noticed my sudden anger.

"Whoa there, toots. Don't be a sendin' all that hate my way! I was just tellin' ya the truth!" He snickered, but I could tell it wasn't as heartfelt as before.

"Shut up, you old fool," Emery growled, obviously not liking what Haymitch had said any more than I had.

"You have no right to say anything about those poor kids!" I snarled, my hand grabbing the first thing it could to chuck at him, which happened to be a knife. I hurled it, just like I had in the woods practically every day since I teamed up with Katniss.

Haymitch's eyes went wide and he ducked, barely avoiding being stabbed directly in the forehead with the steak knife. It was so close I thought for sure it took a few of the hairs off of his head as it stuck into the cabinet behind him, right in the crack in between its two glass doors. The glass didn't even so much as sliver from the impact.

Effie shrieked and cowered, pointing at the cabinet in horror.

"That is mahogany!" She screamed, acting like I had just murdered a close friend right before her very eyes.

Haymitch slowly came up from underneath the table, his eyes trained on me. He looked at where the knife had stuck, surprise coloring his features. Emery watched me silently, his eyes huge as I started to take deep breaths, calming myself down from my temper flare.

"Damn…" He whispered, a small smirk forming on his face.

Haymitch stood up abruptly, so fast his chair fell backwards onto the floor behind him. Effie screamed again and started pointing at it with the same horror as the cabinet.

"What do you savages have against mahogany?!" She exclaimed, holding her wig in disbelief.

"Savages?" Haymitch, Emery, and I all asked simultaneously, causing us to eye each other suspiciously. Effie sighed in exasperation and then stood up, making sure to push in her chair like a proper lady before giving us her polite smile.

"I think I'll just have my food served in my room. Ta ta for now!" She said, walking away with her ridiculously high-high heels. Someday she would fall and break her neck because of those stupid things.

No one said a word until she left, each examining each other in silence. After a door down the hallway closed with a click, we all turned to each other again. Haymitch was the first to speak.

"So, you brats are not only fit, but also fighters as well, huh? You don't like when I disrespect our districts' children, do you?" He asked, tapping his chin.

"Alright! Stand over there!" He announced, pointing to a more open spot. Grudgingly, Emery and I went, glaring at him the whole time. He took another swig of the clear liquid before walking over to us, his eyes calculating. He started circling us, sizing us up and judging us. It felt like we were pigs being appraised by a butcher.

Apparently, what he saw in us wasn't anything too bad, and he stopped evaluating. He walked back in front of us and folded his arms, his lips pursed. I shifted on my feet from all the scrutiny.

"Talk to us already!" Emery sighed in frustration. Haymitch scowled at him and shook his head, still calculating. Finally, after what felt like eternity, he spoke.

"Not good, but not bad. You both are lean and fit, which will be a good advantage when you're out there playing their Games. You have tempers, which isn't the best, but could be just the thing the Capitol people are looking for in tributes. Do you have any skills at all you want to tell me about that you're good at?" He asked, drinking from his bottle. He was speaking quite fluently for a supposed drunk.

Emery and I exchanged a glance before looking at him again. Seeing the reluctance in Emery's entire body language, I put on my big girl panties and turned to our _maybe_-drunk mentor.

"I can use a bow, and I'm pretty skillful with knives as well," I said bluntly, laying out my cards. Since I was going to die soon anyway, I might as well be honest. "Okay, your turn," I said, nudging Emery. He grumbled a curse under his breath and met our mentor's gaze.

"I can fight in hand-to-hand combat well, and I can run. There, that make you happy?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I shrugged. Haymitch snorted, shaking his head as he looked at us.

"What are you holding back? If I'm going to be mentoring you, I need to know exactly what I can market to get ya'll some sponsors. Are you gonna cooperate, or not?" He asked, scowling. I bit my lip and looked at the floor. I didn't want to say any more than I already had. Yeah, I said I was gonna be honest, but I just didn't really feel like I could trust this man with my secrets, mentor or not.

"Laurel hunts in the woods with that Everdeen girl, and she's so skilled with a bow that she can hit a squirrel's eye from a hundred feet. And then she can move so quietly, the birds can't even hear her coming before it's too late," Emery stated as he avoided both of our gazes. I stared at him, shocked that he could know something like that when he wasn't there.

"H-How did you know that?" I asked in disbelief. He ignored me and opted to stay silent. Haymitch smirked, looking between us as if deciding on a new way to market us.

"I'll keep that in mind. For now, I want you two to go to your bedrooms. I'll have attendants bring you your food in a bit. Until then, try to get some rest. I guarantee that tomorrow will be even worse than today," he said, his eyes darkening as he recollected something from his past. Emery shrugged and walked away, fine with going back to his room. I watched him until he disappeared down the hall, the sound of a door shutting echoing in his wake.

"Haymitch?" I questioned, taking a step closer to the old man. He snapped out of his reverie and looked at me, surprised I was still there.

"What?" He snapped, taking another sip of the what I now deciphered to be water.

"Why are you pretending?" I asked, searching his face. He froze, his eyes wide as he stared at me. What? Did he think I wouldn't notice the little things that announced he was actually sober? What kind of huntress would I be if I couldn't see the small flaws in the things around me?

"What're ya talkin' 'bout?" He chuckled, slipping back behind his façade. "I'm not pretending nothin'!" I folded my arms.

"Drop the act, Abernathy. If you were really drunk right now your breath would smell God-awful and your eyes wouldn't be so clear," I pointed out condescendingly. He set his jaw and scowled.

"So what if I'm not really a drunk? Not like it affects you any," he growled, almost immediately finding out how stupid he sounded.

"It doesn't affect me?" I asked incredulously. "Haymitch! My life is on the line when it comes to you! You're my mentor! Without you, Emery and I will die out there!" He let out a deep breath and looked at me apprehensively.

"You know, you're smart for a brat. I can respect that." He rubbed his hand over his face and looked out one of the windows, thinking. He turned back to me when he thought of something.

"How about we make a deal. I promise I'll try and be the best mentor I possibly can for you two, but you have to promise that you won't tell anyone I'm not really a drunken idiot. Deal?" He asked, holding out a hand. I searched his face one last time, looking for any deception, but there wasn't any. So, I fit my hand to his, moving it up and down.

"Deal," I smirked.

"Now, go to your room and settle down. It'll be a while till we reach the Capitol." I nodded and went to my room.

I hesitated as I passed Emery's room, pondering whether or not I should go in to check on him. I still wanted to know how he got that black eye, after all. But then again, as soon as we were in the Arena it was every man (or woman) for themselves. I might as well distance myself while I still could.

I closed the door behind me as I entered my new room for the night. A short, rather pudgy man stood beside a cart next to my bed, completely dressed in white. He set a large covered platter on a side table along with a couple other small ones before exiting without a word. I blinked as I stared after him, taking a moment before putting two-and-two together.

I shook my head at myself and walked over to the platters, unveiling the food he had left me. A variety of exotic meats drizzled with different glazes met my hungry gaze, and I couldn't hold myself back from digging in with my bare hands. I had never tasted anything so good in…well, ever.

Half-way through the platter, I realized how unmannerly I was being. So I stopped and forced myself to wipe my hands off on the napkin the man seemed to have left for me. Getting them as food-free as I could, I turned away from the plate and walked into my own personal bathroom. I ignored the wonders of it just to get to the sink, nearly melting when the water came out warm instead of cold.

I scrubbed away at my hands, trying to get all the grime and coal dust that normally coated it off. How had I forgotten Mother's rule of always washing up before a meal? Haymitch was right, I did need to rest.

After my hands were taken care of, I looked up at myself in the mirror, something I usually never did.

My sharp features were striking, so much so that if I saw someone other than myself with them, I would have thought they were a Capitol model for a living. Coal dust still lightly coated my skin, other than my hands, giving it an ashen look. My long, black hair reached just above my rear, looking dull and unkempt next to the metallic, top-of-the-line, Capitol-made products that surrounded me. I grit my teeth and looked away, stalking back out of the bathroom.

I tore off my ivory dress and squeezed my eyes shut, the longing to be in my own bedroom in my own house taking over me. I held the dress close, still able to smell the sweet scent of the twins on it. I turned to what looked like a wardrobe, opening it to find something to hang the dress up with.

Hung-up shirts and dresses came flooding out in a line, nearly making me jump out of my skin. A small, holographic screen popped up in front of me, different choices of styles and colors of the clothes laid out for me to pick from. My brow furrowed and I examined it more, clicking on what I thought would be appropriate to sleep in.

The clothes disappeared back into the wardrobe with lightning speed, the exact outfit I had picked out appearing before me with a ding. Cautiously, I picked up the hanger and took a step back. The wardrobe snapped shut and the screen disappeared, acting as though nothing had happened. If this was how it was on the train _going_ to the Capitol, I didn't want to know how it was gonna be when we got there.

I slipped on the simple clothing, feeling a little more at home now that I wasn't in a dress. I hung up my mother's dress on the hanger and laid it down on a long table that rested beside a window. I smoothed down the wrinkles and smiled at it, remembering when Mother bought it for me all those years ago in advance. Somehow, I think she knew that this would someday happen.

I picked up the platter and sat down on the edge of my bed, grabbing what looked like a remote on my way. Pointing it at what I assumed to be a television, I pressed the power button. I started to cut my food with a knife and eat it with a fork, like a proper lady. Mother would be ever so proud of me.

The TV came to life, airing what looked like today's Reapings. I settled in a little bit and watched, looking for who I needed to avoid if I wanted to stay alive.

District 1's Reaping had just ended, and all I caught a glimpse of was a drop dead gorgeous girl beside a just handsome boy, both dressed in outrageous clothing. Judging by the way the girl's eyes were so out of focus and blank looking, I figured she must be a ditz. The only way she would get far in the Games is if some horny old men sponsored her while she stuck close to the Career pack. The boy seemed to have a little more wits about him, but not much.

District 2 was announced by Caesar Flickerman, and this time I paid more attention. Their escort was just as colorful and obnoxious as Effie, but was a man instead. He only got halfway through calling out the male tribute's name before a beast of a boy surged forward, volunteering for the spot as tribute. He was massive, with muscles everywhere. He towered over the escort, looking straight at the camera menacingly. His name was Cato Wynters, and he was probably going to be the biggest threat out of all the tributes this year. Ironically, the female tribute that volunteered next was almost a midget, she was so short. But there was a certain glint in her eyes that made her just as dangerous as the boy._ Note to self: Avoid District 2 at all costs._

District 3 wasn't nearly as impressive as District 2, seeing as though the kids weren't nearly as well fed as they were, but there was something about the girl that made me watch her more closely. She was smarter than she was letting on, something I don't think most people would notice. I made a mental note to keep an eye on her.

Then, there was District 4. I always did like that district, if anything just because they got to see clear, fresh water every day. Their escort was more subdued than the others, but it was still obvious she was from the Capitol. They picked the girl tribute first, and no one volunteered. She was surprisingly weak-looking for a Career tribute, but looks could be deceiving. Her stringy, pale blonde hair reminded me of a girl I knew back home's named Delly Cartwright. I felt a little sad as I realized she would probably be one of the first of the Careers that would die. The boy tribute was the complete opposite of this girl. The escort called him Finnick Odair, and it was apparent right away that he would be a highly valued tribute. His skin was sun-kissed from all the days of being out on the water and fishing, which had seemed to give him the ideal amount of muscle definition. His bronze-colored hair curled around his boyish looks, and I watched as the escort nearly fainted from lust. _Such a disgusting thing that could only be expected of a Capitol woman, _I thought to myself in agitation. He grinned at the cameras and waved, already trying to win over the crowds. Maybe I should have done that. Sure, I'm not that much to look at, but I could have tried at least.

Claudius commented that this boy could be possibly pull the most sponsors they've ever had in the history of the Hunger Games. I pursed my lips but couldn't help but agree with him. The boy seemed to be the complete package of what the ideal tribute should be. I was going to have to keep my guard up if I ever came in contact with him.

The rest of the districts blurred together, only a few really standing out. There was a brother and sister from District 7, and it was obvious that they were distraught over it. There was a crippled girl from District 9 who only had one eye and one hand. In District 11, a little twelve-year-old boy was picked, but unlike Prim, nobody stepped up and volunteered for him. The girl that was picked after him could have been mistaken for a man, she was so muscular. I caught the quick flick of her eyes over to the boy, seeing the protective look in them. That was both a good thing and a bad thing, since it would benefit the boy, but would make it that much harder for the tributes like me.

And last but not least, there was District 12. I got to watch from the people's point of view as Primrose Everdeen was picked to go into the Games, and see for myself how everyone handled it.

Katniss looked like someone had just punched her in the stomach, and Gale looked away, squeezing his eyes shut since he was so certain what was going to happen next. Then my eyes found me, and I couldn't help thinking about how different I looked. A fire burned in my blue eyes as I looked over at Katniss, a hidden sympathy in them that the cameras somehow managed to capture. I took off, my legs moving as graceful as a dancer's as I shot out of the crowd, throwing myself at Prim like I was the only thing in the world that could save her. My long black hair looked like it was floating around us, almost angelic in a way, and I shouted out the words that had saved Prim, but had damned me.

"I volunteer as tribute!"

Caesar and Claudius were absolutely speechless as they looked at the replay. Claudius cleared his throat and spoke up.

"It, um, appears someone has stepped up and volunteered this year," he said in disbelief, exchanging a surprised glance with Caesar. I watched the footage of when I ascended the stairs and glared at the Peacekeepers, chuckling at the guts I had in doing so.

Emery's reaping wasn't nearly as dramatic as mine, but I saw the same recognition in his eyes through the screen as I did when we were there in person, meaning I hadn't imagined it. There wasn't a single person in the crowd that showed any sadness that he was picked. It was like nobody knew him, or nobody cared. It was actually a little bit sad.

"It looks like this year's Games will be the most thrilling yet!" Caesar said, now fully recovered from my outburst. Claudius nodded in agreement, swallowing hard before talking.

"Stay tuned, next will be an interview with none other than Seneca Crane-!" I turned off the TV and tossed the remote onto the floor. I wasn't interested in the Head Gamemaker anymore than I was with jewelry.

I set the now-spotless platter back where the pudgy man had first put it and then went back to the bed, my body feeling drained. I crawled under the too-soft covers and curled up, hugging my knees to my chest. I wasn't used to having this big of a bed to sleep in, since I shared the one at home with Luke and Lily, and there wasn't exactly room for my legs to be at night. But I didn't mind. I had the two most precious people in the world beside me every time I went sleep. Having a bed this big only emphasized how alone I was now.

I fell into a restless sleep filled with horrific images of my friends and family dying at the hands of Cato, Finnick, and Emery.

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**A/N: **Did you enjoy? I hope so. It would make me happy :)

I'll try to start updating things more frequently, but nothing is guaranteed. So...Yeah.

Shout-outs to these awesome peeps! : Lovely Lexie and The Loved and Unloved!

Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

Hello?_ *breeze blows by, carrying some tumbleweed with it*_

I know it's been forever since I updated this, and you guys have no idea how terrible I feel. I just got a new laptop for my birthday last Monday, so now hopefully I can get these chapters going by fast again :)

Now, without further adieu...

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins does. I do, however, own Laurel, Emery, and Laurel's prep team :D

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**FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER:**

_I set the now-spotless platter back where the pudgy man had first put it and then went back to the bed, my body feeling drained. I crawled under the too-soft covers and curled up, hugging my knees to my chest. I wasn't used to having this big of a bed to sleep in, since I shared the one at home with Luke and Lily, and there wasn't exactly room for my legs to be at night. But I didn't mind. I had the two most precious people in the world beside me every time I went sleep. Having a bed this big only emphasized how alone I was now._

_I fell into a restless sleep filled with horrific images of my friends and family dying at the hands of Cato, Finnick, and Emery._

* * *

I woke up gasping for breath, the images that had plagued my dreams so life-like and real, that it left me in a cold sweat. The sun was just barely peaking up over the horizon, but it was still later than when I normally got up in the mornings. I crawled my way out of the bed, feeling disgusting from the combination of the dreams and sweating. The train was freezing this morning, making me shudder and reminding me of the cold look in Emery's eyes when he killed Luke in my nightmare.

I stumbled into the bathroom, taking a minute to look over the hundreds of buttons that were lying neatly in perfect rows, each with a picture describing what they did. Giving up after I got halfway through, I pressed three of them and stepped into the shower, bracing myself for what was to come. Warm water sprinkled down from the ceiling, warming up my frozen body and relaxing me, causing me to lean up against the wall. Suddenly, a pale blue, frothy pile of suds fell from where the water had just been, coating me from head to toe. This obviously surprised me, causing me to push away from the wall and try to get the soap before it fell in my eyes.

Apparently, I underestimated how hard I pushed myself away from the wall, and my feet slipped out from under me because of the damn blue soap. I came down hard on the floor, my cheek roughly nicking the edge of a small shelf as I went down. I hissed and pressed my hand against my cheek, hoping that it was just a scrape that could heal in a day or two.

"Dammit!" I growled, sitting up just as the warm water decided to rain down on me again. The stupid blue soap dissolved into my body, leaving behind only a fresh, minty scent in its wake. I got back to my feet unsteadily, eyeing the faucet above me suspiciously.

The rest of the shower was uneventful. Another round of the soap stream happened, but I was ready for it and quickly washed up, now feeling a little bit embarrassed that I let something so ordinary scare me. I stepped out of the Shower of Death and onto a mat, causing some kind of drying mechanism to turn on, hitting me from every angle possible as it dried me. My hair fell down in shimmering waves once it shut off, feeling so soft on my bare skin and looking so glossy that it was like I had switched hair with the ditz from District 1, except mine was black instead of blonde. I touched it, rubbing it between my fingers as I stared at it with amazement. If only we had this kind of shower back home. Lily would love having something like this for her hair. I stepped up to the technologically advanced wardrobe and chose another simple outfit for the day, putting it on as soon as it came out.

A sharp, loud rapping resounded from my door, causing me to nearly drop my shirt. A bright, overly bubbly and obnoxiously loud voice called to me from the other side.

"Up, up, up! Today's going to be a big, big, big day!" Effie giggled, her heels clicking noisily as she walked away, most likely to wake Emery up.

"It's a little late to be trying to wake me, isn't it, Baldy?" I growled, annoyed with her entirely in whole. Sighing, I put on my shirt and opened the door, padding silently down to the dining room.

Haymitch sat back in his chair, tipping it precariously on its two back legs as he took a swig of whatever was in his bottle. He shot me a speculative look, as if reminding me of our deal with his eyes. I looked around the room, seeing if anyone else was in here before nodding subtly. He focused back on his facade, taking a moment to slip into character as I walked to the far side of the room to look out the window. The sun was on its way to the higher part of the sky, and I judged it to be around 8 o' clock in the morning. _I wonder when we'll get to the Capitol,_ I thought to myself aimlessly, staring at the beautiful scenery we passed at break-neck speed. As if reading my thoughts, Effie appeared with Emery in tow, a different color scheme accentuating her skeleton-thin figure.

"We'll be arriving at the Capitol soon! _Ooo_, this is so exciting! I just _adore_ this part of the season!" She sighed and clasped her hands together, staring off into the distance with a dreamy look on her face. Her gaze just happened to slid past me, and suddenly her pleasure was warped into horror as she wobbled over to me, grabbing the bottom of my shirt in terror.

"What is this?!" She shrieked in my ear, tugging on it. I yanked it out of her bony hands and took a step back, sneering at her.

"A shirt! What the Hell does it look like?" I spat at her, smoothing it down. She tsked at me and shook her head, as if I were a small-minded child who had no idea what they were doing.

"How do you expect to make your debut in the capitol like _that_? Dark greens, muted blues, what kind of colors are those?!" She huffed.

"My kind of colors. Now, back off before I do something we'll both regret," I threatened her as I got in her face, my teeth bared in a snarl. Her reaction was priceless as she yelped and took a few steps back, nearly tripping over her ridiculously long heels in her haste. Emery smirked from where he was leaning against a wall, and Haymitch chuckled into his bottle, taking another gulp of his drink to hide it when she shot an accusing look at him.

"What time will we arrive?" I asked, calming down a little bit. Gulping, Effie composed herself and put on her best smile, which looked more like a grimace to me.

"In an hour," she replied tightly, never giving up her smile. I nodded and turned away, sitting in the chair that sat beside the window so I could watch the trees blur and move, moving so fast that it was hypnotizing to watch.

Effie turned her back on me and sat down at the table, beckoning Emery to join her and Haymitch as breakfast was served. The pudgy man from last night was nowhere to be found, but a slender woman offered me a plate so I could eat. She put freshly cooked chicken eggs on the platter, along with the several strips of the finest smelling pieces of meat I've ever smelled before in my life. She set a small bowl of fresh fruit down before trying to leave, but I tugged on her arm to stop her.

"What is this?" I asked, pointing the meat. She looked at me wide-eyed and glanced over at the table, as if talking to me would be a crime. She pulled out a piece of paper and pointed to a word, letting me take a moment to read it before putting it back.

"It's...bacon?" I asked, taking a bite. My eyelids fluttered as I savored the rich flavor of the meat, not used to so much fat in one bite of food but not caring. The woman nodded once before taking her leave, barely making a sound as she exited.

I sat at that window for what felt like only five minutes, but it was probably more around forty. The trees I had been admiring the whole time abruptly stopped, replaced by multi-colored, artificially created shrubs that marred the natural beauty the foliage used to have. _Well, at least I know were getting close to the Capitol,_ I thought to myself dully. Not even a second after I had thought that, Effie announced that we were to get ourselves prepared for our, 'much anticipated appearance.' How could one woman be so dense?

"Alright, brats, when you step out of this train, you'll be swarmed by cameras. They'll be twice as much as back home, if not more. I want you to act as friendly as you Can manage. Smile a little, wave some, throw in some winks if you can. Just try to win them over." He tipped back the bottle again. "And no glaring," he added, turning an annoyed gaze towards me. I looked away nonchalantly, knowing he was meaning me but choosing to ignore it.

"Anything else?" I asked bitingly, not really in the mood to be pleasant. Shooting me a scowl, he took another sip of his drink before speaking.

"Yea, there is. Once we make it in the building, yer going to be taken straight to the Remake center, where ya meet yer stylists and get all, 'Capitalized,' or whatever they call it now," he waved at the air dismissively, playing up his stupid, drunk charade. The ugly, eye-sore's that were considered trees in this strange place started to come into focus better, and I knew we were going to stop soon.

"Okay, tributes! Time to depart! Hurry, now. Get to your places! The door will open in one minute!" Effie announced, checking her pocket-watch she appeared to have pulled out of thin air.

Emery and I shifted over to the doors that would soon open and release us into the chaos. He shot me a look I couldn't distinguish, like he was trying to tell me something with his eyes. Then his gaze slid down to my cheek, and he looked at me in alarm. I didn't have time to figure out what had shocked him, since the doors slid open, and I was met with a sea of cameras. They were all flashing and going off from the train entrance to the building's entrance over fifty feet away. Haymitch put his hand on my shoulder, making it look like he was steadying himself, but he was actually reassuring me. He put on a lazy smile and pulled Effie forward, dragging her through the crowd as he chuckled at his own lame jokes, clearing a path for Emery and I.

Gritting my teeth, I looked straight ahead, trying my hardest to look neutral, but failing as my hatred for cameras being shoved into my face overtook me. Putting back my fist, I about clocked a man who was getting a little too touchy-feely with my body, when suddenly Haymitch was there, grabbing my clenched hand and dragging both Emery and I the rest of the way to the building.

As soon as the doors closed behind us, Emery and I were split away from our mentor and led into an elevator that would take us to the Remake Center. Haymitch, being the kind, caring man he was, decided to shout some encouraging words to us right before the doors closed.

"These people will know what they're doing, so don't say a word to stop them! No complaining!"

Emery was taken down a different hallway in this maze that was the 14th floor, presumably to his prep team. I was lead into a room that looked like it was more meant for surgery than prepping. The man who had led me down here closed the door behind me, leaving me to my own devices for the moment. I sat down on the edge of a stainless steel table, feeling the cold of it bite into my palms. This was the place where they were supposed to make me 'beautiful' for the Games, and everything leading up to them. I just hoped that I wouldn't have to stand bear-naked except for coal dust for the Parade, like the poor tributes from two years ago.

I looked up when the door reopened, revealing three people who looked like they had been hit by a rainbow. Two were women, while the third one was a man, all looking exactly like the typical Capitol citizen. Bright green waves reminiscent of seaweed adorned the man's head, contrasting oddly with yellow, snake-like eyes that rested in the middle of his pure white face. The taller of the two women was slender, but not at all close to being a skeleton like other women I'd seen here. Her hair was a deep purple color, and it was almost short enough to be considered a buzz-cut. The other woman was so short she reminded me of Lily, but that was the end of any resemblances. Her skin was as blue as the oceans District 4 was known for, and her bright pink hair was curled so tightly that I figured if they were any tighter the skin on her scalp would rip right open. She smiled kindly at me, her blue face undeniable sweet and caring despite being from Capitol descent. I gave a small smile in return, restlessly waiting for the horror to begin.

"Ohmigosh! Isn't she just the cutest thing?!" The pink-haired woman squealed, rushing over to me and taking my hands in her own. "I'm Lucinia, and I think it will be an honor working for you!" She nodded eccentrically, her many curls bouncing as she patted my hands. I smiled sheepishly at her and nodded, taking what Haymitch said and minding it. I mean, how bad could this all be? It was just makeup, after all.

~OoOoO~

My skin felt raw, my body felt bare, and my head felt heavy. It had been four hours since I had arrived in this prison, and it hadn't been an enjoyable experience. I had come to find out that the man's name was Domencio, the other woman was named Murcia, and that being waxed in certain private regions hurt like Hell. Domencio was finishing up drying my hair after working in some sort of soap that looked suspiciously like that of the soap from this morning. Lucinia was putting the finishing touches on my now uniform perfect nails, and I was intrigued by the complex patterns of the blue fire that seemed to sprout from my nail beds. Murcia hadn't been kind in her waxing, but she had muttered a sorry ever now and then. My eyebrows had been plucked clean, making them and the hair on my head the last of any remaining hair on my entire body.

And they never stopped _talking._ All they would talk about was things that were going on in their lives, like how Domencio had been invited to some masquerade party and how Murcia had gained six ounces in the past week. And they would always pause every thirty minutes or so to confer with each other about some woman named Portia would think about their progress so far. Then one of them would pipe up and say that she only wanted to see me when I was ready. After that they would get back to work, only to stop and do it again another thirty minutes later.

"Okay, I think she's ready this time," Murcia nodded to herself. Lucinia and Domencio agreed and they decided to leave, promising to let this Portia woman in in a few minutes as they went out the door.

I sat there, in all my naked glory, waiting for whomever this guy was as I tried examined what things they had changed about me. There was exactly _zero_ mirrors in the room, and even the tables were just dull enough to blur my image, preventing me from seeing my reflection in its metallic surface.

The door slid open and in walked some woman who, judging by her lavish clothing and heavy makeup, was my fashion stylist. Her platinum blonde hair was like an umbrella was sitting on her head, darker streaks of it glittering in the light. She was tall and skeleton thin, her bones sticking out and making her look like a walking skeleton. She strutted towards me, a calculating look in her eyes as they looked over my body. I had an extreme urge to cover myself, but I held it off, knowing she would only force me to uncover myself.

"Hello, Laurel," she smiled, revealing very white teeth that shown even brighter against her light brown skin. "My name's Portia, and I'll be your stylist for this year's Hunger Games. Now, go get that robe and put it on," she pointed to the thin robe my prep team had made me put on every once in awhile, "I'll just start by fixing up your hair for the Parade tonight, so you don't need to be nude until its time to get your outfit on."

She led me to a chair and let me sit down, her hands immediately twisting designs into my hair. She fawned over its long length and how it was so black.

"Is this your natural color?" She asked, taking a closer look at it. I looked at her incredulously out of the corner of my eye.

"Of course it is. Why would I dye it?" Her eyes widened and she seemed to see that I was pretty annoyed by her question. She ran her fingers through my hair as if to calm me down.

"Sorry if I came off as rude, Laurel. It's just that you can't find this color of hair here in the Capitol naturally, so I just assumed you had dyed it. My deepest apologies," she told me, a regretful look on her angular face.

"It's fine, Portia," I reassured her, attempting to play nice. "How about we just get this over with as soon as we can, yeah? I've been told more than once that I'm not a very co-operable subject to work on when it involves fashion things."

"Okay! Just lean you head back and close your eyes for a little while, and I'll do the rest." I narrowed my eyes suspiciously, but ended up doing as I was told. She started tugging lightly on random locks of my hair, pulling them in different directions as she hummed quietly to herself. She seemed to tune out everything once she started working on something, a quality that could be both good, and bad. I thought I recognized the tune she was humming, but I couldn't place it without the lyrics.

"Now, I'm going to need you to hold your breath just for a second. I have to spray some of this stuff in your hair, and trust me when I tell you, it doesn't taste very good," she made a face and somehow made me chuckle. She wasn't as bad as I had thought she was going to be.

After she had finished doing my hair, she brought out what seemed like millions of different shades of every type of makeup known to man. She touched up on what Murcia had already down, for some reason putting darker tones of color on my face. My mind scrambled as I thought that she was going to make me stand there in my chariot naked, the only thing covering me would be coal dust. I blinked when she put the makeup away, not even bothering to touch up any other part of my body with the powders. Once I had relaxed again, she made me stand so she could start rubbing in some type of cream thing that soothed my still sore skin.

Instead of talking about everything happening in her life, she would ask me about things that went on back in my District, like what we did for fun and how we celebrated things. It made me feel a little more trusting to her, for some reason, and I ended up telling her how we would hold dances in the town square for the holidays. I also accidentally let it slip that that was the place where my mother had met my father, and how 9 months later I was born. I never talked about things like that, normally. I didn't like people knowing things about me where they could use it against me. It just spilled out that my parent had had me before they were married.

"It's frowned upon back home, you know. Having a child before participating in Holy Matrimony is against everything the people of my District apparently stand for. That's why I don't really have many friends. Their parents know that I wasn't planned, so they whisper rumors that there is something wrong with me, that I'm different. A freak. But I didn't even do anything!" I yelled, tears forming. "So what if my parents got ahead of themselves? It doesn't mean that I'm supposed to be frowned upon and laughed at and picked on and bullied!" I took a shuddering breath and came back to myself, realizing how much I had just told someone I didn't even know that well. She put a hand on my shoulder and met my bloodshot gaze, a sympathetic look on her face.

"Laurel, I will not tell a soul of what we have talked about today, okay?" She said with a smile. I looked at her in shock, surprised that she would say this and look like she meant it.

"Okay. Thank you, Portia," I whispered.

"Don't mention it. Do you want to get your outfit on now?" I nodded. Her smile widened even more, creating crinkles around her eyes as she looked at me warmly. It was almost like she was my own mother. She strode confidently over to a closet-type thing, pulled out something covered by a black cloak, and some sort of small contraption that had a trigger, like a gun.

"Tell me, Laurel. Are you afraid of fire?" She winked, pulling the trigger.

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**A/N: **And that was Chapter 6 :) Did you guys like it? Do you like Murcia, Lucinia, and Domencio? What about how I portrayed Portia? Let me know in your reviews!

I think things will start to pick up now that the Parade's just around the corner! So hopefully I'll get the next chapter out faster than over two weeks :P

Shout-out to Lovely Lexie for sticking with me through this whole thing so far, no matter how long it takes me to publish another chapter!

P.S. I would like to thank the people who have recently favorited and followed my story :) It means a lot!

Have a wonderful day, folks!


	7. Chapter 7

H-H-How's it going guys? My name is TheFlameRose, and today you will be receiving a new installment of _I Volunteer as Tribute_! It's a couple hundred words shorter than my other chapters, but I thought you guys would understand :P

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games. Period.

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**FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER**

_"Don't mention it. Do you want to get your outfit on now?" I nodded. Her smile widened even more, creating crinkles around her eyes as she looked at me warmly. It was almost like she was my own mother. She strode confidently over to a closet-type thing, pulled out something covered by a black cloak, and some sort of small contraption that had a trigger, like a gun._

_"Tell me, Laurel. Are you afraid of fire?" She winked, pulling the trigger._

* * *

I tried adjusting my outfit for the third time, still unsuccessful in my attempts at making it baggier. Portia watched my attempts with amusement, using her hand to cover her mouth as if that way I wouldn't see her smile. I glared at her and tried once more to try and get enough breathing room.

"It won't work, Laurel, no matter how hard you try," Portia chuckled, resting a hand on my shoulder. "The material is made to fit like a second skin."

"Yeah, well, this 'second skin' of yours is really constricting my boobs," I grumbled, stretching it yet again, "I can barely breathe in this thing!"

"Have you tried moving around in it yet?" She asked, leaning against the wall as she smirked at me. I narrowed my eyes at her and reluctantly started stretching.

"Whoa," I murmured, looking down at the black bodysuit in a new light. It moved with my body, but didn't stretch so thin that you could see anything. There were little black vines embroidered up the sides of the legs, circling around my waist before coming up and going down my arms. They were a darker shade than the rest of the suit, but you couldn't even see them unless you were inches away from me.

"What's the point of these things?" I asked, twisting my arm so that she could see the little extra centimeters of thread. She smiled knowingly and twirled her gun-like thing by the trigger. I watched warily, readying myself to dive for cover if anything was fired. But, nothing happened, and she put it away with a flare, as if she'd been handling it for years.

"You'll know in due time, Laurel. Now, sit down while I put on the finishing touches."

I did as I was told, being patient as I possibly could as she more makeup on my face, no doubt fixing what my prep team had messed up. It wasn't their fault though. Just because I was told to just go with what they told me to do, didn't mean I couldn't squirm when the brush got a little too close to my eye.

I stood up when she told me to, closing my eyes when she wanted me to; even giving a little twirl for her even though I didn't know what else she had put on me yet. She put something on my head, but she wouldn't let me open my eyes to see what she had done. She had left my hair alone for the most part, never once spraying a single thing of whatever on it. It was put up though, that much I knew.

"Alright, you can open your eyes now. Tell me what you think," Portia said, the sound of the walls opening up following her words.

Slowly, I opened my eyes, half of me wanting to see what she had done with me, the other half wanted to keep them shut and just get this over with already. My reflection met that of a stranger's. There was no way that the girl– no, _woman– _in the mirror was me. The clothing that adorned her was a sleek black, accentuating curves that only strengthened my mindset that this creature was not me. The dainty silver tiara was a nice change of color that didn't really take away from the rest of the ensemble, but the thing that did draw me in the most, was her eyes.

The shadow effect around her eyes only brought out their blue hue even more than it would by itself. They smoldered, holding an inner fire to them that looked like it would burn you up if you stared too long.

"This…Is me?" I asked in a hushed whisper, watching as her lips moved in sync with my own. Portia nodded, a glimmer in her eyes that showed the pride she held for her creation.

"Don't you love it?" She asked, bursting at the seams with pride. I turned my head to face her, the corners of my eyes crinkling as I smiled at her.

"It's gorgeous, Portia. Thank you, really. You don't know how worried I was that you were going to–"

"Dress you up in nothing but coal dust?" She chuckled, reading my mind. "No, I wouldn't ever dream of doing that. It's just not tasteful enough for a girl of your natural beauty."

I shifted awkwardly on my feet, not used to compliments that weren't laced with malice. I grumbled out a _Whatever _and our once easy banter was now replaced by a tense silence. A knock on the door dispelled the tension, and Portia rushed to the door to answer it. Effie stood there with a disgruntled look on her face, one hand on her hip and the other held out so she could look at her stylish, top-of-the-line watch.

"Miss Trinket! What are you doing here? We still have fifteen minutes," Portia questioned, her pencil-thin eyebrows raised. Effie merely huffed and tapped her watch, an annoyed look on her face.

"No, Portia, you do not! Have you even been paying attention to the clock? The _Parade _is starting in fifteen minutes! I swear, stylists these days…" She grumbled, shaking her head and making her platinum blonde wig's curls bounce. Portia's eyes widened and she whipped her head around to look up at the clock on the wall, realization that she had miscalculated the time hitting her like a load of bricks.

"Oh dear, it seems I lost track of time. Come on, Laurel. We have to get you out of here and to your Chariot!" Portia exclaimed, taking me by the hand and leading me out of the door, a relieved Effie right behind us.

~OoOoO~

"Why do girls always take so long to get ready," Haymitch growled, his fingers tapping quickly away on the table he was seated in front of. Emery looked over at him, an eyebrow raised as he observed his mentor's impatient behavior. Another man sat next to them, gold eyeliner adorning his eyes as he watched and waited patiently. Suddenly, he sat up straighter from his seat and gestured to the people hurrying down the hallway towards them, making the other two men aware of their presence.

"You're late," Haymitch snarled, standing up as he glared at me, as if it were my fault my stylist lost track of time. I shrugged, feeling the fabric of the bodysuit move with me as I did so. The other man with them stood up as well, smiling as he looked me up and down.

"Hello, Laurel Dainton. I see Portia has done well with your attire for this year's Opening Ceremonies," he smiled at me. I looked down at the outfit and back up at him, unsure of how to proceed. Luckily, Portia came to my rescue and introduced him.

"Laurel, this is Cinna, District 12's other stylist. He helped me with some of the work designing your ensemble for this evening." I looked up at him and nodded, showing a small sign of appreciation to the tall man.

"It's nice to meet you, Cinna," I said politely, offering my hand as my mother had taught me to when meeting new people. He shook it and smiled at me, looking bizarrely normal in this place of freaks.

"Time is ticking! No more dilly-dallying people! Let's get a move on or we'll be late!" Effie chided, pushing on my back to get my body moving. I grudgingly started to move, knowing it wouldn't be wise to be late for something as big as the Opening Ceremonies, no matter how stupid it was.

The other tributes were already waiting by their chariots, and I could feel their eyes locking onto us as soon as we entered the room, some in suspicion, others in awe. I ignored all of them and walked over to our chariot, making sure my face was blank as I did so.

Our horses were coal black, befitting the district they represented. I walked up to one and stroked its side, feeling the soft, coarse fur underneath my fingertips. I'd always wanted a horse- I mean, what little girl doesn't- but they were so expensive, and I'd have nowhere to keep it where it wouldn't be a bother to anyone. I'd come to terms with the harsh reality that my life was a part of a long time ago, so I knew that any hopes and dreams I had were just a waste of time.

I could still feel eyes watching me, even though most of the tributes had gone back to doing what they were doing. I turned and looked down the row of chariots, unintentionally meeting the gaze of the District 2 male tribute. Blue clashed with blue, and a smirk formed on his arrogant face. I sneered, eyes flashing with anger, but never broke eye-contact. It was like facing down a cougar, once you make one move that suggests you are weaker than they are, they strike, and I was not weak. He raised an eyebrow, as if surprised by the way I reacted.

Emery came up beside me, and I was forced to look away. Doing a quick once-over, I realized he was dressed in almost the same thing as I was, the only difference being that his was stiffer, more like a leathery armor than a second skin and that there was no tiara on his head. The little vines were embroidered on it as well, and I couldn't help but wonder why they would dress us so much alike.

"Are you ready?" He asked, his eyes darting in the direction I had been staring.

"Yeah, we should get this over with already," I grumbled, walking with him over to where Portia and Cinna were waiting. Portia smiled as I neared, and I gave a small smile in return.

"Laurel, Emery, do you trust us?" Cinna asked when we stopped walking. My brow furrowed, and I couldn't help but be suspicious of why he would ask something like that. Emery and I exchanged a glance, and I let him answer for us.

"Depends. What do we need to trust you for?" He asked, crossing his arms and inadvertently showing off the muscles in his arms. Now it was Portia and Cinna's turn to exchange a glance. Portia pursed her lips and pressed her hands together, pondering on how to tell us whatever it was she needed to.

"Laurel, do you remember when I asked you if you were afraid of fire?" She asked me, taking a step closer. I nodded slowly, remembering how she had brandished the gun-thing after she had asked.

And then it clicked.

I put two and two together, and realized the thing she had been holding like a gun wasn't actually a gun, it was a lighter. She was going to light us on fire. That's what the vines were for, to make sure it had enough kindling to spread over our bodies to burn us like the coal we mined back home.

"You're going to burn us alive!" I gasped, scrambling back a couple of steps to distance myself from the psychos. Emery took a second to realize what I just said, and then he, too, backed away from them. Cinna shook his head vehemently, an apologetic expression coloring his features.

"No, we aren't!" Cinna said as sincerely as he could, looking as though he really meant it.

"It's synthetic, it looks like real fire, but it can't burn you, or burn out without a special spray Cinna and I created," Portia explained.

"See?" Cinna added, pulling out his own lighter and holding his own finger over the tip as he pulled the trigger. I watched in fascination as the flame licked up his finger but didn't turn it black. Once he let go of the trigger the flame disappeared, and his finger was unharmed.

"Whoa," Emery muttered, rubbing a hand through his carefully styled hair and messing it up in the process.

"I second that whoa," I commented, actually impressed with their flames. "Did you make this stuff yourselves?"

"Yes, it's our own original design. It took us quite a while to perfect it, but now it is primed and ready for action," Cinna said with a twinkle in his eye. I had a sudden realization that these two Capitol people were probably the most down-to-earth people I have ever met.

"The Opening Ceremonies will be starting in five minutes. All tributes must be standing on their designated chariot within that time limit," a booming voice announced from the ceiling, surprising half of the tributes and their stylists.

Cinna sighed. "I wish we had more time to discuss this, but as we all just heard it's time for you two to climb aboard your chariot."

"I've been meaning to ask this for a while, but could you tell us where our mentor and escort went?" Emery asked, not seeming to be frazzled at all by the sudden announcement or the time limit we now had. Portia waved away his question and quickly gave a reply.

"Miss Trinket and Mr. Abernathy are conducting business right now, but they'll be here when you get back, okay? Now, get up there! District 1's chariot has already left!" Emery and I looked over at the other chariots and realized they were right, so we scrambled up, Emery helping me when I almost slipped right back off.

"Are you ready for this?" Portia asked, and I knew she was meaning the synthetic flames. I swallowed down my fears and agreed, hoping that I wouldn't burn to death even though I had seen Cinna's finger survive firsthand.

They nodded at each other and produced their lighters, each moving to their own tribute to light us up. I glanced over at the other tribute chariots to see District 7 already pulling away, the brother and sister acting like the other meant nothing to them as they were as far apart as they could be on their little platform. It was sad to think they had already accepted that one had to die for the other to live. The stylists did their last little adjustments in record time before pulling the triggers, letting the synthetic flames start at our feet and lick their way up the vines. It tickled, but surprisingly didn't burn, nor did I feel the heat associated with fire as it wound around my torso.

"Good luck out there, Laurel, Emery," Cinna said to us in encouragement before stepping back. Portia leaned in close, pretending to adjust my tiara as she whispered something in my ear.

"Once you're about halfway through you loop, grab his hand and do not let go," was what she said before taking a couple steps back and waving farewell to us. I looked back at her in confusion, almost falling over again when the chariot lurched into motion, but luckily Emery was quick enough to catch me before it was too late.

Clearing my face of all emotion, I squared my shoulders and braced myself as we exited the stalls and entered the City Circle, where I nearly fell yet again due to the sheer volume of noise coming from the crowd that watched us eagerly, calling out the names of their favorite tributes. It seemed they were particularly fond of the District 2 and 4 males, who were both absorbing as much of the attention as they possibly could. District 4, was even posing for the crowd, working them exactly how he had during his Reaping. 2 just smiled viciously at them, baring his teeth like an animal, and for some reason the women went wild. I thought I even saw a pair of panties flying through the air towards him.

I looked up at the giant screen that took up most of the side of one building just as the cameras panned over to us, inching away before snapping back to our chariot almost as if the cameramen were in shock of what they saw. And I couldn't blame them.

I hadn't noticed before that our flames were different colors. Emery's were a bright orange, verging on being almost red in color, while mine were blue. They wound all around us, yet stayed only were the vines were as our horses trotted through the Circle. I just couldn't believe what the screen was showing me.

It showed a woman, with not only her body being enveloped by flames, but her eyes as well. They held an inner fire burning with a passion that didn't belong on the hard, cold face they were set in. She looked like she would burn through anything and everything in her path, and would do it without a single wince or cringe. She looked invincible, indestructible. And people noticed.

There was a lull in the audience when they saw us, so taken aback that they stopped their chattering and shouting for the other tributes completely as they stared, mesmerized by our appearances. The Career Districts looked at each other in confusion before all looking up at the screen to see what had happened.

The lull was over quickly as the Capitol nitwits took the time to look up our names in their little pamphlets they undoubtedly had in their smooth, perfectly manicured, callus free hands. They began cheering for us, yelling and hooting and whistling and applauding so loudly it more than doubled what the uproar had been for the other tributes.

I turned away from them, grinding me teeth in anger at their naivetés. I suddenly realized we were almost halfway through the loop, and I turned to Emery, surprised by how cold and deadly he looked with his flames. Trusting Portia more than I normally would on the first day of meeting someone, I grabbed his hand, holding onto it tightly so he wouldn't pull away. He blinked and looked at me in confusion, his eyes asking me why I was doing this. He got his answer when our flames touched, and then changed.

They turned pure white and raced up our arms, overwhelming the old flames and taking over, and how the crowd went wild. They started screaming, like this was the most exciting thing they had ever seen. It was almost frightening to listen to, but I didn't let that show. Instead, Emery and I shared a look before he raised our hands, showing everyone watching what had caused the transformation. Oh my God, how the crowd roared at this.

My gaze drifted forward a little, and suddenly it was met with that of a stormy sea-green that could only belong to that of the District 4 male tribute, Finnick Odair. His eyes were narrowed, and his fists were clenched as he eyed us, and my first thought was that he was jealous for stealing his thunder and taking the crowds' favor. Deciding to try and mock him a little bit, I winked and blew a kiss to him, probably not the smartest thing to do, but for some reason I felt like getting under his skin. Maybe because he was just so perfect, it was unfair. I don't know. But, he did look a little flustered after I did so, and he turned away. _Laurel: 1, Career Tributes: 0._

Becoming bolder, I turned back to the crowd, deciding that maybe I should try to work it just like Finnick had. Giving a small smile to the many people watching us, I blew a small kiss at them, my smile broadening when they went nuts trying to catch it. Emery looked at me quickly out of the corner of his eye, and it was like he was surprised at what he saw me doing. I ignored him and became even bolder, waving and smiling and blowing kisses out into the audience, playing them right into my hands.

Our chariot slowed to a stop, and I came back to myself, no longer feeling a little giddy and bold. The smile slipped from my expression and was quickly replaced by my cold, closed-off face I seemed to wear no matter where I was. All of the tributes looked up at the balcony where our dear, dear President had just walked out, smiling at us too tightly for it to be a real smile. He then proceeded to give us a welcoming speech I immediately tuned out since it was the exact same thing every year.

My ever-wandering eyes looked around as everyone paid attention to our awful President and his even worse speech. I seemed to be drawn to look over at the Career District Tributes, and rightly so since the male from District 4 was looking my way, his eyes clear and welcoming as he watched me. His sea-green eyes were admittedly gorgeous, not that I would ever say that to his face. Once I met his gaze, a small smile formed on his perfectly sculpted lips, and he sent a little wave my way. My brow furrowed in confusion. _What game was he playing?_

Suddenly, everyone started clapping as our, _beloved, _President departed, and I realized the speech was already over. The speech must've been shorter than I originally thought.

Our chariots took off again, and we broke eye-contact. Nobody seemed to have noticed the smile or the wave, and it was like it had never happened. We were heading to the Training Center, and a wave of nervousness suddenly washed over me at the prospect of training under the watchful eyes of the Career Tributes, since they already seemed to have beef with me. When the horses began slowing as we entered the building, I finally noticed something that seemed to have slipped my mind as I got wrapped up in the lights and the crowd and the other tributes.

Emery had never let go of my hand throughout the whole thing.

* * *

**A/N: **Did you guys think it was alright? I tried to give the first taste of how Cato and Finnick would act around our beloved Laurel, but I'm not sure if I did it right. And what did you guys think of the outfits? Were they cool? Too much like Katniss and Peeta's? I hope not. I wanted to give them my own little twist and thought the flame idea was pretty BA, if I do say so myself. And what do you think of Emery? Is he hot? Do you think he needs to take his shirt off more? I could work with that. Yup. I said it. AWW SHNAP!

I'm thinking that I will be updating every two weeks, maximum. That way, I get one week of working on one of my stories, and then do the same for the other story :) If things start getting even better around here, I might be able to get back to my whole, "Three chapters a week! WHOOOP!" Deal I had when I started these stories.

Things should be starting to get complicated involving the plot soon enough, and I don't think you guys will expect what I have up my sleeve for this story ;) At least, I hope you don't. That would ruin all the fun things I had planned ( ._.)

Anyways, sorry for the HUGE Author's Note this chapter!

Shout-outs to: The Loved and Unloved & Lovely Lexie for reviewing last chapter! You guys rock!

Also, I would like to thank the "Silent Watchers" for following and favoriting my story :) You may never speak out, but I still value you guys highly. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Dang this is long.

Sorry.

Um.

Bye now.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey evera body :D It'sa been a while! Sorry about that.

I won't bore you guys with any chitter-chatter right now. So, without further adieu...

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games. Or it's characters. Only the people who are obviously not from the book. Yup.

* * *

**FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER**

_Our chariots took off again, and we broke eye-contact. Nobody seemed to have noticed the smile or the wave, and it was like it had never happened. We were heading to the Training Center, and a wave of nervousness suddenly washed over me at the prospect of training under the watchful eyes of the Career Tributes, since they already seemed to have beef with me. When the horses began slowing as we entered the building, I finally noticed something that seemed to have slipped my mind as I got wrapped up in the lights and the crowd and the other tributes._

_Emery had never let go of my hand throughout the whole thing._

* * *

We stepped off of the chariot carefully, and as soon as our feet hit the ground our entire team appeared as if from thin air and started spraying us with the spray they created to put out the synthetic flames. It was only at this point did he release my hand, since we were being ushered around by different people. Haymitch materialized beside me, his eyes shifting around warily as he muttered to me under his breath.

"You did alright out there, kid, but it seems you've attracted the attention of the wrong crowd, from what I saw." He rubbed his jaw and casually pointed to our left, to the higher districts. Glancing out of the corner of my eye, I saw both of the male tributes from 2 and 4 looking our way. The one from 4 was laughing and interacting with the people around him, but he kept his eye on me. The one from 2, however, was flashing his eyes between our little entourage and his own.

"But I didn't do anything!" I whispered back, turning to look him in the eye. He shrugged, tipping back his bottle of strange liquid as his eyes kept watching our surroundings.

"You didn't have to," he replied mysteriously, causing my brow to furrow in confusion.

"Listen, I want you to stick around Emery for a while, okay? I'm not exactly sure what they're planning, but knowing how Career Tributes usually are, it won't be good," he instructed quietly, meeting my gaze for a brief moment before flitting away again. "I'm sure you're quite capable at defending yourself, but it might be wise to stick near him since he's, well, you know…"

"Taller, stronger, and more muscular?" I finished, an eyebrow raised in annoyance. He nodded, oblivious to my irritated reaction.

"Exactly. So, do you agree?"

"It's not like I have much of a choice on the matter, since you're my mentor and all, and I'm supposed to listen to you," I grumbled back. He smirked, meeting my gaze for longer than a second this time.

"Glad you know your place. Now that that's settled, we should hurry along before Effie starts throwing a fit about how slow we're moving. God knows how much more I can take from that woman…" He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

I snickered and hurried along, taking one last glance around the room before we headed to the elevators. All humor left me as I realized that the male from District 2 was no longer with his group. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen in the entire room. I shook it off and continued walking with my own group, though I did start walking next to Emery on the way there. He gave me an odd look, but otherwise remained silent.

The elevator ride up was quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts. That is, until Effie decided she needed to tell us about things involving her life that we had no need nor want in knowing whatsoever, but nobody said a word. It was better to just let her talk her own ear off than risk her becoming pissed and torturing us some more with her nasally voice.

Let's just say I nearly threw myself out when the elevator doors opened.

We were on the 12th floor of the Training Center, being from the 12th District and all, and my eyes were huge as I looked around our new living quarters for the rest of the time we had left before the Games started. It was easily bigger than our house back home, perhaps even three times its size. It had all the gizmos and gadgets as the train, but they so much more complex. It was like they decided to add fifty more buttons to everything. The panel on the shower had over two hundred buttons alone. It didn't have enough space to include pictures this time, so I had to guess-and-check my way through it.

It had that fancy blow-dryer thing like on the train as well, so I didn't have to deal with all the tangles I had no doubt were hiding in the black jungle that was my hair. Walking up to the mirror, I appraised myself. All the dark, dramatic makeup had come off after some scrubbing, leaving my tanned skin feeling light and bare, as if a weight had been lifted from my face. How could people wear that stuff all the time?

I rubbed my hand over the scar on my neck, remembering darker times of a past best forgotten. It was a wonder it hadn't been rubbed right off when my prep team practically scrubbed three layers of my skin off of my body. I shivered at the memories of the times before I met Katniss. It was a wonder Portia hadn't said anything when she prepared me earlier, or the prep team for that matter.

The closet was basically like on the train, so I just got the simplest outfit available, which was surprisingly hard considering all the choices and possibilities I had at my disposal. It was as if these people had never heard of the word 'cotton' in their entire life.

Effie knocked sharply at my door, chirping in her overly-fake cheery voice that dinner was ready. My stomach rumbled loudly, eager to begin eating as soon as possible. I smirked and walked out of the door, throwing some hair over my front to hide the scar.

Haymitch, Emery, Portia and Cinna were all waiting for us at the dining table, conversation ceasing as soon as I stepped into the room. I raised an eyebrow at them and turned to Effie, as if she had a clue what they had been talking about. She pretended she didn't notice me and walked forward to her seat, leaving me suspicious and confused.

I sat down in my seat slowly, eyeing my fellow diners silently, the same way they were doing to me. Well, actually it was only Haymitch and Effie who were looking at me in this way, but it felt like everyone was. My patience was wearing thin, the tense silence only putting me further on edge. Just as I was about to snap, Portia struck up conversation with Effie, asking what she thought of our Parade outfits. Cinna chimed in with something about our interview outfits, but I was zoning out.

Emery's black eye had healed for the most part, the only thing remaining being a slight discoloration to the skin. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, his eyes not focusing on anything in particular as he spaced out. Haymitch looked like he actually tried with his appearance tonight. Clean-shaven, hair washed, and it looked like he was actually wearing some clean clothes for once. He must've gotten his own stylist or something.

Our servers brought out our meal, which to a normal Capitol person, such as Effie, would seem simple, plain even, which is exactly what Effie proceeded to call it. But to a Seam kid like me, who only ever ate what she happened to kill that day, it was heaven. Roasted pheasant smothered in a peach glaze, mashed potatoes covered with white gravy, and small pieces of warm bread topped with cheese and strawberries. Emery and I dug in quickly, unable to stand looking at it any longer.

After I had eaten every last morsel on my plate, I set it aside and wiped my mouth with my arm, momentarily forgetting I was no longer at home and that people here didn't do things this way. Effie glared at me, her beady black eyes filled with disgust at my display of the lack of manners I possessed. I pursed my lips and averted my gaze, a little embarrassed at myself. A small smile formed on Emery's face, sending me a wink before picking up his plate and loudly licking it clean. After he was done with that, he belched and wiped his mouth with his arm, drawing Effie's attention away from me and onto him.

"It's a good thing you have Cinna and Portia as your stylists. Without them, people would see the slobs you two really are!" Effie sneered, sounding exactly like one of the girls back at home I knew. She was constantly picking on me, calling me cruel names and doing everything in her power to make my life at school a living Hell.

"If you'll excuse me, I will be in the sitting room," she huffed, her heels clacking obnoxiously loud on her way.

"What's up her ass?" Emery grumbled, raising an eyebrow and looking between us all. I pressed my lips together firmly to prevent myself from laughing. Portia discretely covered her mouth with her hand, hiding her smile.

"I don't know, but it's been there for a _long_ time," Haymitch replied, rolling his eyes as he sipped from his drink. Everyone burst out laughing, tears springing in some of our eyes from laughing so hard. It was a wonder she hadn't heard us.

"Well, even though Miss Trinket isn't here to join us, I think we should be able to still enjoy this while it's here," Cinna said as soon as he could speak again.

He snapped his fingers, getting the attention of a nearby server and forcing them forward. The server set down a huge cake and promptly lit it on fire. The flames whirled around it, changing colors rapidly before abruptly going out. Portia clapped giddily and motioned for the server to cut everyone a slice. He silently obliged and began cutting the cake.

I froze, all my previous humor gone, and stared at the server-boy's face. It couldn't be him. There was no way in _Hell_ he could be standing here, cutting away at the celebratory cake meant for Emery and I like he was just some average server. He peered at me from the corner of his eye, somehow able to still cut the cake evenly even though he was no longer watching what he was doing. He didn't look surprised in the least that I recognized him. I opened my mouth to ask him something, but he slightly shook his head to silence me.

_Not_ _here_, his eyes said, shifting away to focus on finishing up his task.

Emery glanced between us warily, his mouth set in a thin line as he tried to figure it out. I avoided his gaze, concentrating on eating my slice of cake he had put on my plate. My eyes closed entirely on their own as the sweet flavor exploded in my mouth, sending warm shivers down my spine at the pleasure of it. We had never been able to afford cakes back home, and this was the first time in my life I had ever actually tasted a piece. Emery was having a similar reaction from his side of the table, his eyes fluttering as the taste overwhelmed him. I found myself smiling a little bit and stopped. He was the competition. When we got in the Arena, I might just kill him. It was better to distance myself while I still could.

After everyone was done with their cake we shifted over to the sitting room, where Effie had been waiting. The servant-boy had followed us at Portia's request, standing silently at the corner of the room as he awaited his orders. I couldn't help myself from sneaking one last look at him before turning to the television screen.

The broadcast had just started with Caesar and Claudius cracking jokes at some of the tributes' outfits and the stylists who made them. I thought it was actually quite rude of them to do this, but Effie seemed to be having a heyday with it, her abhorrent laughter grating on my nerves.

District 1 just looked plain ridiculous out there. Somehow the blonde ditz managed to pull off the pink fluffy feathery-slash-furry look their stylists seemed to be going for, but the male just looked miserable. Emery snickered at his dismay, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Thank God we weren't from that district.

District 2's stylists seemed to know what they were doing with the whole 'Golden Gladiator' look they gave their tributes. At least, it worked for the male, Cato. The female tribute was so small that it looked like the armor she wore was weighing down on her, and her legs could barely keep herself from falling over. This didn't stop the crowd from cheering aggressively for the duo.

District 4 was about the same as District 2 as far as who wore it better. They had basically draped the tributes with blue tarps and tied them off to reveal choice parts of their bodies. The girl's was so it showed off most of her legs and part of her chest, while Finnick's was placed so that his muscular chest and abdomen were shown off for the aroused women of the Capitol to devour with their eyes. I sat up when the flash of white flew from the stands and almost hit their chariot.

"They were panties!" I exclaimed, earning a couple incredulous looks from the people around me. I smiled sheepishly and sat back, opting for silence as I watched the rest of the Parade.

Most of the other districts weren't really worth mentioning, and neither Caesar nor Claudius commented on them. The girl from District 3 looked lost next to her partner, almost like she was uncomfortable with all the noise and the lighting. The siblings from District 7 stood stiffly away from each other, the boy looking like he was about to cry every time he glanced at his sister and the girl looking like she was about to murder her brother every time she glanced his way. The crippled girl from District 9 looked absolutely terrified in her silver studded outfit, her male counterpart doing all he could not to start crying.

The little boy from District 11 held his head high as he stood on his chariot, something that had to require some sort of courage for him to do. The older girl just scowled at everyone and everything as she stared straight ahead, not even bothering to acknowledge the crowd. Their stylists had taken the easy way out and just put both tributes in stereotypical overalls, putting grey wheat-wreaths on their heads to call it their own design. Now, I wasn't one to like designer clothing- or fashion in general- but their stylists could have at least tried.

And then there was us. The cameras shifted briefly to us and back away, like they just knew that the District 12 rats were just as lame as last year. Our flames must have caught the cameraman's eye, because he whipped the camera back to focus more on us. Then came the lull in the crowd as they stared in awe at the shimmering flames wrapped around our bodies, where Caesar and Claudius burst into applause.

"Another big and commanding entrance by our District 12 volunteer tribute, Laurel Dainton!" Caesar exclaimed, sharing a look with Claudius.

"The boy tribute looks pretty opposing as well, Caesar! And those flames," Claudius gushed, physically pointing out the obvious.

"Amazing, just amazing!" Caesar agreed. They quieted down and let us get a better look at ourselves, and I had to admit, we did look pretty intimidating.

My face was cold, menacing even, and the darker tones of my makeup just added to the silent strength I emitted. I blinked and touched my cheek when I saw the scrape leftover from my encounter with the Shower of Death bare on my cheek at the Parade. In fact, it looked even worse than before with darker bruising around the edges. I looked bewildered over at Portia, who pretended not to notice me as she stared intently at the screen.

Once the crowd was roaring, I saw how close our past selves were to being halfway through the loop and I paid better attention. I got to see the sudden spark in my eyes as I remembered what Portia had told me, and how I had put my hand in Emery's. I got to see the confusion show of his face right before the flames touched, the white fire spreading rapidly until it surrounded us. It was literally impossible to overlook us now with the brightness of the flame, and it made us look almost ethereal.

The camera zoomed out a bit to include all of the chariots suddenly, and my eyes widened enough to rival saucers when I realized what part was coming up next. I clenched my jaw and put on my best poker-face, bracing myself for what was to come.

I watched in silent mortification as my eyes looked ahead, locking with the eyes of the one and only, Finnick Odair. Looking at him more closely, I noticed the way he gripped the railings of his chariot as he stared back at me, his knuckles white and his jaw clenched as he looked at us with his eyes narrowed. I had to clench my jaw a little harder when I winked and blew him a kiss. Now that I could look back and see this from a viewer's perspective, it looked like I was flirting with him.

And Caesar noticed.

"My, my…Would you look at that? It appears we might have some flirting between the tributes this year," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. My whole body stiffened as I felt the weight of every person in the room's eyes on me.

"You may just be onto something, Caesar," Claudius smirked, also rubbing his chin. The broadcast skipped over most of the President's speech and focused on the tributes, more specifically on Districts 2, 4, and 12.

Emery and I's hands were still firmly clasped together, looking almost painfully so, but it didn't appear to bother either of us. Emery's focus never strayed from the President, while mine was everywhere. Finnick was staring shamelessly at me, trying to get my attention without saying anything. Cato looked almost bored as he looked up at President Snow, his attention quickly shifting towards us were it stuck. The look in his eyes was almost predatory as he glared our way. How had I not noticed him with a look like that?

"Caesar, I think this might be a little more than just some flirting," Claudius hinted amusedly, sharing a chuckle with Caesar.

"Well folks, this ends the Opening Ceremonies for this year's Hunger Games! I would have to say it was one of the best we've seen yet! Don't you agree, Claudius?"

"Yes, I do! Stayed tuned for-" Haymitch turned off the TV, effectively cutting off Claudius Templesmith mid-sentence.

The tension in the air was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. I was sitting ram-rod straight, my anger slowly boiling the more I thought about what happened. Haymitch cleared his throat and shifted a little, and I knew he was turned towards me. Emery looked even more pissed off than I was, and he showed it by lurching to his feet and leaving the room without another word. Cinna and Portia shared a look before standing up, telling me how amazing I looked out there and departing to their bedrooms.

"Well, it's official, brat. You've successfully screwed yourself three weeks before you even step foot in the Arena," Haymitch chuckled, taking a swig from his bottle. Effie actually appeared to be a little pleased by this turn of events, something that bothered me deeply. She got up and smoothed down her ridiculously scandalous skirt before walking over to me.

"You know, of you ever need to release any 'pent-up stress', the Avox's here work _wonders_. All you have to do is ask them," she winked, causing my lip to curl in disgust.

"Thanks, Effie…I'll keep that in mind," I said uneasily, trying to act like she hadn't just grossed me the Hell out. She smiled, patting my cheek before walked down the hallway.

"And she says we're the slobs," I shuddered, horrified that she thought I would want something like that.

"You should see her when she's drunk. For being so obsessed with manners and being orderly she can be pretty crude," Haymitch snorted, rising an unexpected chuckle out of me.

"You know, you aren't half bad for an old guy," I teased, smirking at him. He rolled his eyes and pointed his bottle at me.

"Don't you be getting soft on me, brat. You need to be ready for anything by the time Judgment Day rolls around. And forty is not old!" He growled, standing up. I put my hands up in mock surrender and fixed my face into an innocent look.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Abernathy. I'll never misbehave again," I vowed, letting my eyes tear up a little bit for effect. He grunted and started walking away.

"Yeah, whatever," he grumbled, making his exit.

I stared down the hallway after him until he went into his room, closing the door firmly behind him. He really was a good man, no matter how many times he would deny it. It was a shame people would never be able to see him for who he really was, instead of the old drunkard façade he made for himself.

The room was quiet; the only sound I could hear was the sound of my own breathing. That's why I nearly jumped out of my skin when the Avox boy gently touched my arm to get my attention. I sprung from the couch, wiping around to look at him as my heart raced. He watched me silently, unable to speak because they had cut out his tongue. My brow furrowed and I looked back at him, feeling uncomfortable.

"I thought you were dead," I whispered, causing him to quickly shake his head and glance around, as if someone were around to hear us. Someone we couldn't see. Cameras. _They could be watching us with cameras_, I thought, looking away from him as I realized this.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else. Silly me," I chuckled, making myself look as convincing as possible just in case. "Could you get me a glass of warm milk? I'm parched," I requested, my smile faltering the longer I acted. He nodded and left without another word. Of course, being an Avox and all, there would be no way he could say anything ever again.

My legs gave out and I landed back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as the thoughts raced through my head. Could this server boy be the person I thought he was? He certainly looked like him, crooked nose and everything. I turned on my side, facing the TV. Was it even possible? I-I had seen what had happened to him with my own eyes, was he really able to survive something like that? I still had nightmares imagining that he hadn't been quick enough, and I had been speared right through my throat.

He walked into my view and handed me the mug, forcing me to sit up to attempt drinking it. Just as I was about to take a sip, I paused, looking up at him curiously.

"Before I drink this, I want you to take a sip," I stated, handing him the mug back. His brow furrowed and he looked at me almost sadly, as if I had forgotten what they did to people like him. "That is a command, and aren't you supposed to follow commands?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. His shoulders slumped and he grudgingly put the cup to his lips, tipping it back so that it trickled into his mouth.

"You should still taste it with the taste buds on the back of your throat, or, so I've heard," I covered, watching him expectantly. He blinked and looked down at me, a light going on inside his head.

"Drink all of it. I don't want it anyway," I sighed, acting as if it was merely an inconvenience. His eyes brightened and he nodded, playing it off but knowing what I had meant by it.

My eyelids began drooping and I yawned, stretching out before lying down. I was exhausted, mentally and physically. Tomorrow would be the first day of training, and the first day all the tributes would be brought together to show each other how deadly they were with a certain weapon, or more likely, how useless they were at anything to do with survival or fighting. Things started to get blurry and fade as sleep finally overtook me.

* * *

**A/N: **Heya again evera body! I'm terribly sorry that this took so long. Hope it's up to par with the rest of the story so far!

Oh! What do you guys think of this Avox kid? Well, I guess he's not really a kid, but you know what I mean. Any guesses to what happened? Is it obvious? Do you think this Avox is who she thinks it is? SO MANY QUESTIONS! DX

Shout-outs to these cool peeps for reviewing! = The Loved and Unloved, cutegirlems, Lovely Lexie, Whatever1993, and squirmyorchid! Thanks for so much positive feedback :)

Shout-outs to the new Silent Watchers out there! Have a virtual cookie ;) *throws cookies*

Okay.

Peace Out!

Oh, and please review!


	9. Chapter 9

Heya evera body~ :D

I'm back!

Wowza!

Alright. Here is Chapter 9 of...I Volunteer as Tribute!

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: I do not, and will not, own The Hunger Games. Only the character I create in this story are mine. :D

* * *

**FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER**

_"Drink all of it. I don't want it anyway," I sighed, acting as if it was merely an inconvenience. His eyes brightened and he nodded, playing it off but knowing what I had meant by it._

_My eyelids began drooping and I yawned, stretching out before lying down. I was exhausted, mentally and physically. Tomorrow would be the first day of training, and the first day all the tributes would be brought together to show each other how deadly they were with a certain weapon, or more likely, how useless they were at anything to do with survival or fighting. Things started to get blurry and fade as sleep finally overtook me._

* * *

I sat straight up with my eyes wide and panting, practically drenched in sweat. The nightmare had been particularly difficult last night, reminding me why I had been so desperate to be friends with Katniss.

"Never again," I promised myself quietly, clenching my eyes shut.

Upon re-opening them, I noticed I wasn't on the couch any more, but in my own room. Emery leaned against the doorframe of my room, eyes resting on my tense form. My brow furrowed and I looked at him warily, wondering for one, why he was watching me sleep, and for two, how long he had been standing there.

"Breakfast is almost ready," he announced, his grey eyes never leaving mine.

"Good to know," I said sarcastically, "Could you please leave now?"

The skin tightened _ever so slightly_ around his eyes, but he ended up just shrugging before walking away, the door closing behind him. He was so…odd. Sometimes he seemed to be at least somewhat decent, but other times he retreated into himself, becoming a cold, closed off person that actually seem as though he could kill without a second thought, like someone else I knew. Maybe District 2 wasn't who I had to worry about. Maybe the real threat was sleeping in the room right next to my own.

Silently, I got up from my bed, still puzzled as to how I got into it, and went into the bathroom to take a shower. Today was the first day of training, and my stomach was twisting and rolling as nervousness washed through me. I wasn't as strong as the other tributes. Hell, that little boy from 11 could probably take me and win.

_Yeah, right_, a voice scoffed in my head. _There's no way you would ever let that happen_.

I absentmindedly trailed my fingers along the scar, knowing that the voice was right. The odds had never been in my favor, but I had proved over and over again that the odds chose the wrong person to stack up against.

When I walked back into my room an outfit was lain on my bed, which I assumed to be my training outfit, which I would have to wear every day for training until the Hunger Games began. A black and red top was matched with black leggings, almost skin-tight, but free feeling, like my body suit had been. This would allow me to move quite freely without the fear of it ripping. Not that I would really care. Even if they did rip, they would still be in better condition than the clothes I wore back home.

The floor seemed quiet as I walked down the hallway, as if I were the only one there. The table was empty of people, leaving only the food meant for my breakfast. I shrugged. At least now I would dine in comfort. Besides, if I were really running late or anything, they would send someone to tell me, wouldn't they? Effie didn't hate me _that_ much, right? A feeling of uneasiness filled me, and I scarfed down my food in a hurry, just in case.

Just as I finished up, the front door opened up, and in walked Portia. My brow furrowed in confusion as I looked at her, wondering why she was here. She smile pleasantly at me, coming to stand a few feet away from the table.

"Hello, Laurel," she said in her Capitol accent, looking at me expectantly.

"Uh, hello, Portia. What are you doing here?" I asked, cutting to the chase.

"Haymitch had something to attend to and asked me to escort you and Emery to the Training Room this morning. Speaking of which, where is that boy?" She looked around the room as if he would just magically materialize from the walls.

"I don't know. I woke up this morning and he was there, but after I got ready and came in here it was like I was completely alone," I explained, shrugging. She pursed her lips, placing a delicately manicured fingertip against them as she thought.

After a couple minutes of deep thought, she sighed, shaking her head. "Well, I guess we'll just have to leave him for now. I'm sure he'll be able to find his way if he hasn't already. Come on, Laurel. Let's go."

We stepped into the elevator quietly. Where _was_ Emery? Was he thinking on skipping our first day or something? Portia ripped me out of my thoughts by placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Laurel, there's something specific Haymitch wanted me to tell you," she said, making sure my eyes were focused on her before continuing. "There's going to be a lot of weapons stations down there, and he knows you'll want to go to them as soon as you see them. But you can't. Don't show off any of your fighting skills in front of the other tributes. Instead, he wants you to focus on the survival aspects of training. Maybe some snares or fires or something. The higher district tributes will most likely try to goad you into fighting them, but don't fall for the bait. It will just give them an edge over you."

"Okay, I'll try my best, Portia," I tell her, but in my head I'm crossing my fingers, not willing to promise anything. She smiled in relief, retracting her hand from my shoulder but not turning away from me.

"You'll be able to show your stuff during your private session with the Gamemakers, so don't worry," she reassured, but I just turned away from her, looking up at the floor number as something to focus on.

The rest of the ride was uneventful, neither of us speaking until the doors opened. I began walking out, but paused when I realized that Portia wasn't beside me. Turning back around, I found that she was still standing in the elevator, her body language not showing any intention of leaving it.

"Aren't you coming?" I asked, brow furrowing. She shook her head.

"No, I'm only allowed to bring you to this point. If I see Emery, I'll send him down. Oh, and one last thing. When you do see Emery, Haymitch wants you to stick by him at all times. No arguing. Please, remember what I said, Laurel," she said solemnly, sending me a somber look before the elevator shut again, cutting off our conversation and leaving me alone.

I stared at the elevator door in shock, appalled at the last tidbit of information she decided to throw on me. Sure, yesterday was alright, but I only had to be around him for around ten minutes! Why would I want to '_stick by him at all times'_?

I sighed, letting it go for the moment, and looked behind me at the large double doors that led to the training rooms. If I was lucky, I would be able to blend into the wallpaper and go by unnoticed by the other tributes. _Yeah, when have I ever been lucky_? I sneered in my head, stalking forward before I lost my nerve and slipping inside the door.

It appeared as though I was actually early coming down here. Only four or five other tributes were here, and surprisingly none of them were Careers. They must be lazy this year, or so cocky they think they don't need to train. Either way, I was glad I wouldn't have to deal with them for an hour or so.

"Ahh, District 12! Come over here and wait with the other tributes, my assistant here will pin your district number on your back," a giant of a woman called to me, motioning me to come closer as what I assumed to be her assistant stepped forward with my number.

Keeping my face carefully blank, I walked forward, pretending not to see the stares of the other tributes. The assistant smiled at me before forcefully turning me so that my back was to him. My fists tightened and my body went rigid as he pinned the number on my back, but I didn't show any of my anger or discomfort on my face. I had to play tough. It was a dominance thing.

His hands lingered lecherously on my back, and I had to fight back against the bile rising in my throat at the uncomfortable feeling it gave me. Then, instead of taking his hands off of me like a sane person, he decided to go lower, gently squeezing my rear as a slight chuckle escaped his throat. I clenched my jaw, eyes widening as my anger level skyrocketed to heights it has never been at before. I whipped around, startling the disgusting pervert and causing him to back up a step. With rage fueling my decisions, I took a step forward and raised my hand, backhanding him across the face as hard as I could.

A loud pop resonated around the near-empty room, and the pervert staggered back, his face as pale as a ghost. He put a hand to his cheek, eyes huge as he looked at me in fear.

"Don't you EVER touch me like that again, or next time, I'm going to do a lot more than slap you," I snarled, my eyes flashing.

"Sinius! Get your ass over here and stay put," the Amazon commanded, her eyes showing just as much anger as mine probably did. He nodded shakily, darting back to his position as quickly as his legs would take him. The giant woman glanced over at me, an approving smile on her face.

"Alright. Now, come over and stand by the other tributes, 12," she instructed, gesturing to where the others stood in a loose semi-circle. I clenched my jaw but kept my cool, playing down my personality to appear as if I couldn't care less about anyone or anything.

I came to stand in between the District 9 girl and the little boy from 7, who stared at the ground mournfully as his sister stood at the opposite end of the little line we had going on, selling the Bitch look easily. Hard to believe she was the same girl with the look of complete devastation when her brother was picked for the male tribute of her district.

The District 3 girl kept glancing my way, averting her gaze almost instantly only to bring it back again, like she wanted to say something but couldn't. Her male counterpart stared somberly into the distance; his shoulders slumped like he had already accepted he wasn't going to win even though he hadn't even met any of his competition. Kids with his kind of mindset always died in the Bloodbath. Always.

I walked up to the Amazon silently, causing her to jump when she looked up from her clipboard to find me standing in front of her. She smiled kindly and looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to talk.

"Since you've probably been doing this for years, do you know what time most of the other tributes will roll in at?" I inquired, trying to calculate how much time we would have to stand here. She chuckled and tapped an odd metallic bracelet she had on her arm. I blinked when a little green hologram-type thing appeared, a timer blinking in it.

"Well, since most usually don't come in until the designated time, I'd say in about an hour, or maybe an hour and a half. Why do you ask, 12?" Why did I ask?

"Well," I started, deciding to choose my wording carefully, "Would it be alright if we, as in the other tributes here and myself, were given a little showing of the stations right now as we wait for the other competitors to arrive?" Her eyebrows shot up and she gave me an incredulous look as if I were crazy.

"Look, it's not like we'll last long in the Games anyway. What's an hour compared to the lifetime of training the Higher Districts have had?" I added, playing the wimp card even though it tasted like bile in my mouth.

"Oh," she replied, a look of realization dawning in her eyes. She put a hand to her chin, a thoughtful look on her face. "I've never thought of it that way before."

"It would be alright if you declined. I would understand, since it is you're in charge and all," I stated, tentatively stroking her ego to see if that helped coax her into agreeing.

"Well, there isn't anything in the rules against it…" She murmured, still thinking. I stood in front of her silently, watching her face for any signs of rejection. I wasn't even sure why I asked her about this, actually. A sudden urge to do something other than awkwardly stand in silence beside people who would probably be dead in a week had come over me, I guess.

"Alright! Listen up, tributes!" She calls out suddenly, commanding the other tributes who hadn't been watching our exchange to attention. "Seeing as though there is an extra hour before the other tributes will arrive, I have decided to let all of you go to one of our training stations we have to offer and train for an hour. Each station has its own personal trainer to provide one-on-one learning with. Now, go!"

The tributes gawked at her in surprise. The District 3 girl looked at me, a knowing smile on her face as she grabbed her partner by the arm and led him to the knot-tying station. The boy from 7 looked at his sister, his eyes asking if she wanted to go somewhere with him. She snorted and marched towards the weapons corner, grabbing an ax almost immediately on arrival. The little boy looked down at his shoes and shuffled down to the fire-starter station, which wasn't too far from the weapons area. The girl from 9 looked like she had no clue what to do with herself and just stood there dumbly, her one good eye wide as she glanced around the room.

"Thank you," I told the Amazon, who merely nodded in return.

"You can call me Coach Atala. Just remember that as soon as I hear an elevator door open, all of you have to halt your activities and come back over here. Are we clear?" Coach Atala asked, giving me a look that told me I should agree or else.

"Crystal."

"Alright. Now, go train, since you wanted to so badly. I have things I have to attend to. Sinius?" She barked, causing her pervert of an assistant to leap forward.

"Yes, Ms. Luvian?" He uttered in a squeaky voice, subsequently causing me to put a hand over my mouth to hide the smile. His legs shook profusely now that he had gotten closer to me again.

"You are in charge until I get back. And if I hear that you so much as _touched_ one of these girls, I will personally see to it that you will never be able to use your hands ever again," Coach Atala threatened while smiling sweetly at him. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, the way his knees knocked showing that he understood the implications. She nodded once more to me before departing, casting a warning glance at Sinius over her shoulder just as the door shut behind her.

Not wanting to linger near Sinius for long, I headed for the stations, not really having one in particular I wanted to train at. The District 3 tributes were surprisingly well at tying intricate knots, even though the boy still didn't look like he had any will for anything in his body. The girl from 7 was missing horribly whenever she tried throwing the ax, always hitting at least a foot to the left of her intended target. She got so frustrated she just started hacking at them in close quarters, unknowingly tipping me off to her vicious behavior, and what she would do when frustrated. Her brother didn't even pay attention to the fire he was supposed to be starting, just stared at her. Poor kid.

I decided it would be best not to work with weapons, especially since I was told not to, so I headed over to the edible plants station, much to the trainer there's delight. She begins avidly talking about what plant soothes pain and what causes a rash and it was stuff I already knew. The test she gave me was, sadly, way too easy, and she was genuinely impressed with my knowledge. When asked where I learned everything, I just smiled and told her from my friend's mother, who runs a makeshift apothecary. She nodded, buying the explanation. It was sad sometimes how well I could lie.

When finished, I asked her how long I had been there, and she told me only fifteen minutes. I sighed in frustration and left, wishing I hadn't known the things I knew. Examining the leftover stations, I felt the urge to go to the archery area, or at least to the knives. But I knew I couldn't. I'd have to wait until my private session. But they looked so tempting, and the bows were beautifully carved…

Gritting my teeth, I headed over to the knot-tying area, determined to learn something I didn't know. The trainer here looked even more thrilled that I came over here than the plant test girl. The District 3 tributes looked at me curiously as I sat down with a piece of rope, showing the trainer what I knew so he could show me something I didn't. Even though Gale hadn't liked me much when I tagged along for hunting trips, he did show me how to make snares well.

"Damn. You're good at that," the District 3 girl said, staring at the intricate knot I had weaved without knowing it. It was Gale's signature knot.

"No, I was just taught well," I replied coldly, hoping she would take the hint and shut up.

"Psh, whatever. It doesn't matter how well you teach someone, they have to at least have a little skill to be any good at it. That's what my mom always told me," she snorted, looking down at the rope in her hands.

"My name's Klew, Klew Blackthorne. It's nice to officially meet you, 'Girl of Flames'," she smirked, holding out her hand to shake mine. I returned the gesture and we shook, but that didn't mean I wasn't freaked out about this. Why was she telling me her name? We shouldn't even be talking to each other. Soon enough we might be at each other's throats, our only thoughts being, 'Kill or be Killed.'

"Where did you hear _that_ name?" I asked her, undoing my knot without looking at it.

"With that fiery entrance you made, everyone else was blown out of the water. _Everybody's_ talking about it. I'm surprised you haven't considering you are the one everyone seems captivated by," she explained, shrugging her shoulders. I rolled my eyes, dismissing it as some bull-crap spiel made by another desperate tribute.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm not here to impress people," I muttered, asking the trainer for more tips on an even more difficult knot. She smiled, turning to face me fully.

"But you _have_, and that's the point!" Klew exclaimed quietly, keeping her voice down to avoid drawing the attention from the other tributes.

A shrill ringing suddenly filled the air, its source being a whistle the pervert was blowing.

"Alright, everyone get over here and stand as you were! The other tributes are arriving!" He shouted, somehow managing a somewhat commanding tone even as his knees knocked together.

"It's been an hour already? Crap!" Klew huffed, handing her untouched piece of rope back to the trainer and stomping back over to the waiting area. Her partner looked around him as if in a daze and saw that she was gone, to which he responded with a sigh of relief. Rolling my eyes, I gripped him by his arm and hauled him up, completely catching him off-guard and causing him to freak.

"Don't hurt me!" He yelped, ducking his head and wincing.

"Hey, calm down. We just have to go and stand over there, alright? The other tributes are here," I said, calming him with my soft tone.

"O-Okay," he nodded, allowing me to take him over to where we were supposed to go. I let him go next to Klew, whose eyebrows rose at the sight but didn't comment. We all looked like we had just gotten here, and that was exactly what we were going for. The other tributes looked a little scared as we all waited in tense silence, knowing that soon the real killers of these Games would be here any second. I stood up straight, my shoulders back and my chin raised defiantly as I waited. I would not be intimidated. I would survive.

* * *

**A/N:** I will survive~

I WILL SURVIVE~!

Anyone? No? Okay... ( ._.)

SO. I'm back! Been way too long people, I'm sorry. Things are SO much better now. See, I even sang for you through text! I have yet to do that in any story yet. :P

**Question I have for you guys**: How do you like the new characters, like Klew and Sinius? Or how well do you think I portrayed Atala? And what about the nickname Laurel has, Girl of Flames? I'm sorry it's so close to Katniss' Girl on Fire, but I couldn't really think of anything. If any of you have read my Beta profile you'd know I'm terrible at coming up with names. It took forever to think of Klew's.

_I had a thought to make Sinius (the perv assistant) actually grab Laurel's ass, which would result on him getting back-handed across the face, but I figured this way would be better. A little. Not much. Alright, the coin picked tails! I couldn't decide ( ._.)_

**EDIT! I changed it! Ha Ha! :D**

I'm rambling, aren't I? Hoover Dam it.

Shout-outs this time are: Lovely Lexie and TheLittlePervert! Thank you for sticking with me Lexie, and welcome to the party, Pervert! Every party needs a pervert, right? Well, maybe not birthday parties. That'd be weird. Forget I said anything.

And to the lovely Silent Watchers out there, thank you for following and favoriting my story :)

Sorry I threw the cookies (/-\)

See you next update!


	10. Chapter 10

Hello! I'm back! Don't kill me! D:

Here's Chapter 10 of I Volunteer As Tribute!

ONTO THE STORY!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins does. I just own my super amazing OC's of awesomeness. Yes.

* * *

**FLASHBACK TO LAST CHAPTER**

_"Hey, calm down. We just have to go and stand over there, alright? The other tributes are here," I said, calming him with my soft tone._

_"O-Okay," he nodded, allowing me to take him over to where we were supposed to go. I let him go next to Klew, whose eyebrows rose at the sight but didn't comment. We all looked like we had just gotten here, and that was exactly what we were going for. The other tributes looked a little scared as we all waited in tense silence, knowing that soon the real killers of these Games would be here any second. I stood up straight, my shoulders back and my chin raised defiantly as I waited. I would not be intimidated. I would survive._

* * *

The doors flew open and the Careers stalked forward, each one whooping and grinning wolfishly as they strode across the floor. Their eyes raked over us, looking us up and down to size us up for slaughter. I glared openly at them, hating their overconfidence in their abilities to kill us. Both District 2 Careers raised an eyebrow at me in amusement, Cato even going as far as throwing me a wink, but all the District 4 boy did was frown. He wasn't laughing, or even looking at his new pack of teammates. He was only looking oddly at me.

As they came to stand next to us, the girl from 9 panicked, her breathing turning into short pants as her anxiety level rose. She scrambled to me, hiding on the side opposite to them as if I would be her shield and protect her from them. This made the District 1 girl giggle, a shrill noise that rivaled even Effie's and would give anyone a headache if she did it any louder. Her partner seemed to think this way too, since he grimaced and took a step away from her to cover his ears.

The other tributes slowly trickled in, the only ones standing out to me being the District 11 boy and Emery, whose eyes locked onto me as soon as he entered the room. He weaved silently between the other tributes until he reached my side, his arm gently brushing against mine to alert myself to his presence. I looked up at him, noticing the black eye was almost gone but a new bruise was forming on his jaw. He didn't even acknowledge me. He just stood there stoically as we waited for Coach Atala to come back.

We didn't have to wait long. She appeared out of what seemed like thin air in front of us, her clipboard in one hand and a whistle in the other. It was like she was gone one second and here the next. I didn't even see the door open. She stepped forward, her presence alone bringing everyone to attention.

"Welcome, tributes of the seventy-fourth Hunger Games! I am Coach Atala, the head trainer here at the Training Center. As participants of this glorious event, you have the opportunity to learn many new skills at our variety of skill stations. Each station has its own expert, who will answer any questions you have and will remain there until the day is done. You are allowed to move from area to area as you chose, as long as your mentors' permit it. Some of the stations here teach important survival skills that could mean the difference between life and death out there, so I don't suggest you neglect them. The remaining stations teach fighting techniques, which can be ranged from using some of the weapons we have to offer, or hand-to-hand combat.

"Approximately two hours before you all disperse for lunch, we will begin sparring sessions, where you will be allowed to fight with other tributes. But this doesn't mean you are allowed to beat your opponent to a pulp, since they must be able to participate in the Games. The rules for the sparring will be fully explained later, but for now I'm going to wrap this up."

Once she began listing all the different stations they had, I tuned out. My eyes wandered over to look at the other tributes, and much to my dismay it was quite obvious almost every one of them were bigger than me, even most of the girls. But, over fifty percent of those tributes looked malnourished. I could see it in their hollow eyes and concave cheeks. A lump formed in my throat as I remembered when Luke and Lily used to look like that, when we were barely getting by, if you could even call it that. Back when I…

Klew was paying a ridiculous amount of attention to Coach Atala. She didn't even bother to blink as she focused solely on the taller woman, which was a little strange. Her counterpart was standing next to me, looking really nervous around all the other potential killers, but not as depressed as before. I took a deep breath and looked down at my shoes, just knowing that he would become one of the nameless tributes that nobody ever remembered. But, it was best not to think about that.

Emery gently placed his hand on the small of my back, snapping me out of my reverie and making me focus on him. His eyes were scanning the area, and that's when I realized that everyone was going to the skill stations already.

"You can choose where we go first," he said, his eyes narrowing as they swept over one area before returning to normal. My eyebrow rose as I looked up at him, noticing how tense his body was as he stood next to me.

"I assume you talked to Portia," I stated stiffly, trying to remain pleasant as to not tick him off.

"No, Haymitch. Now choose," he grumbled, and I couldn't help but make the comparison between him and the average Career. The way his eyes calculatingly watched the other tributes was enough to make my skin crawl.

"When did you talk to Haymitch? I didn't see him at all this morning," I questioned, taking a step away so that his hand fell off my back.

"That's not important, Laurel," he growled, and I could feel the heat of his silent anger radiating from him. Perhaps it would be in my best interest to drop it for now, since I just knew his temper would be just as bad, if not worse, as mine.

"Fine. Let's go to the fire-starting station," I said in an almost detached sort of way.

"Fire-starting it is, then," he murmured, following me over to the empty station.

The trainer there smiled on our arrival, but Emery paid him no mind as he gathered the materials he needed and started. I was more reluctant, just then realizing how close we were to the Careers who were showing off their prowess with weapons, trying to intimidate everyone for their own pleasure. Arrogant brutes.

I already knew how to start fires, obviously, but I let the trainer show me how flint could create a spark I would need to make a fire if I didn't get my hands on any matches in the arena, which was a big possibility. The trainer was actually quite impressed on how quickly I learned, even giving me a light applause when I managed to light the fire on my first try.

Emery stayed silently by my side, having a much more difficult time than I thought he would. The flint would spark almost every time, but it would never catch on the kindling quick enough to burn, which seemed to only make Emery all the more determined to make it. I watched him from the corner of my eye, seeing the hardness in his eyes as he glared down at the piece of rock, trying to will it into working. The way that he looked at the little fire pit was both intense, yet distant, and I knew he had something on his mind. What exactly was in there was beyond me, but it had to be something pretty important to make him act so…Off.

When the spark finally caught on the kindling, flames erupted up, dancing and licking at the air which made Emery actually crack a smile in triumph. His shoulders slumped as if a big weight had been lifted from him, and his bruised face was open, instead of the harshness I had grown used to seeing on his face. He honestly looked better when he smiled. But, it disappeared as quickly as it came when he looked up to glare at something behind me.

Looking over my shoulder, I saw Klew and her partner standing there, looking at me expectantly. My mind blanked as I tried to figure out why they were here, and when I couldn't do that I raised my eyebrow and angled myself towards them so that I was actually facing them. Klew smiled, her amber eyes crinkling at the corners as her partner waved the tiniest wave I had ever seen before in my life at me.

"I hope we weren't interrupting anything," Klew giggled like a little kid and stepped forward, sitting cross-legged beside me. The boy sat on the other side of her, ducking his head to appear invisible to Emery's heated gaze.

"What do you want," Emery spat, his bad mood only getting darker the longer they were next to me. Klew turned and looked at him oddly, that knowing look appearing in her eyes I had seen at the Reapings, confirming that the intelligence I had suspected to be there actually was.

"It's nice to meet you too, 12. My name is Klew, Klew Blackthorne, and this is my district partner, Hive," she introduced, much to Hive's displeasure and Emery's aggravation.

"Whatever. Why are you over here?" Emery asked lowly, his voice so cold it sent unexpected chills down my spine. Klew seemed to be taken aback by the sheer hostility that radiated from him like heat.

"Oh, um, well- I, uh," she stammered, and I looked disbelieving at the sudden fear appearing in her eyes as she locked them with Emery.

"Sorry to bother you, 12. Come on, Hive. I think we should hit up the camouflage station next," Klew chuckled nervously, attempting to play off her fear as she stood up, Hive in tow. "I'll, um, talk to you later, Girl of Flames," she added quietly, sending me a meaningful look before hurrying to the other empty station.

"What is your problem today?" I growled, whirling back to Emery angrily. He shook his head dismissively, his eyes dulling as he focused back on his now extinguished fire.

"You know we can't get close to anyone here," he snarled right back at me, hitting the flint harder than necessarily needed to create a spark.

"Why bother getting close to each other, then?" I said lowly, my fists clenching as my blood boiled hot. He paused in his ministrations, his whole body locking up as a look I couldn't quite identify crossed his features. I stood up slowly, brushing myself off as I took a couple steps away.

"I'll see you later, Emery. Or, should I say, 12," I mumbled, turning around and stalking off to the place I had been telling myself from the very beginning I shouldn't go.

The weapons area.

I could feel his steel grey eyes burning holes into my back, but I just kept walking, by-passing the archery station where the blonde bimbo from District 1 was fruitlessly attempting to shoot arrows at a dummy but missed horribly every time. Well, for one thing her stance was off, her shoulders weren't square, and she held the bow too far away from her body as if she were afraid of it. I couldn't help but snicker at her stupidity. You'd think as a Career she'd know better than that. She looked up at me when she heard my snicker, her face twisting into a hideous scowl as a snarl curled her lip up.

"_Seam rat_," she hissed venomously at me before promptly turning and shooting another arrow, only to miss yet again. I schooled my features into a cold blankness and continued on my way to the spear-throwing station, where surprisingly no Careers were at yet.

The supposed expert of the station watched me with barely concealed distain, like he was above helping a lower district kid like me. I could _feel_ the disgust he held for me like it was something palpable. Without a word he tossed me a spear, and without a word I caught it in one hand, causing him to raise an eyebrow curiously. I glared at him as I walked by, subtly butting the dull end into his stomach for good measure.

Once I was at the dummy range, I stopped, taking the time to weigh the spear in my hands and get familiar with it. It was a simple spear, one that reminded me of the time when Katniss, Gale and I had tried our hands at tossing some, except the spears we had used were just a couple long branches we had carved into being smooth. Gale had been the one who wanted us, meaning Katniss and himself, to try throwing around spears one day when we were out in the woods. Neither had actually seen what a real spear looked like, only I had. So, Gale grudgingly let me help them make some, but he refused to look at me as we carved them.

Katniss had been two times as better at throwing it as I was, while Gale was even worse. He had muttered that I had purposely messed with his spear to make it fly wrong. That didn't go down well, resulting in a heated argument between him and Katniss, who came to my defense by telling him he just wasn't that good with spears. He responded by glaring at me and yelling at her, which she took in stride. Meanwhile, I had watched them innocently, never saying a word as I smiled wickedly on the inside. He was always such a jerk to me, so I thought I would take him down a peg. He never did find out.

Positioning myself in what I hoped to be the right stance, I held the spear up to about shoulder height. Taking a deep breath to center myself, I pulled my arm back, running forward a couple steps before I let it fly. It hit hard, going over half-way through the area between the dummy's left pectoral and its shoulder. I winced, softly cursing at myself for missing the heart.

"Nice shot."

I tensed, my senses going into overdrive to try and derive who it was that spoke. Soft footsteps came to stand directly behind me, the smell of metal and blood wafting forward to assault my nostrils.

"But the wound won't stop them from killing you," he added in a haughty whisper, the curious smell of peppermint mingling with the other scents to envelope me in their horrible aroma.

"You're Cato Wynters, from District 2," I stated, more for my memorial purposes than to actually talk to him.

"How'd you guess?" He chuckled mockingly, the sound giving me an idea of how tall he was.

"What do you want?" I countered, still not turning around. It wasn't an act of fear, but of defiance.

"I'm just checking on the little fire girl, that's all," he answered, that smug, mocking tone still prevalent in his voice. If I recalled correctly, every Career on record had sounded the exact same way. And for some reason, it pissed me off.

"I don't need anyone to check on me, let alone some brainless oaf like you. Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"Brainless oaf? That's a new one," he interrupted, the tone of his voice changing slightly into a more intimidating one. "I don't think I like it."

"That's not my problem," I responded nonchalantly, starting to walk away to grab another spear. His hand shot out and gripped my arm, freezing me in my tracks from the unwanted contact.

"Let me go," I snarled, anger flaring in my eyes as I still refused to look at him. He sighed in frustration, as if I were just a mere inconvenience to him. Slowly, though, he released his bruising grasp on my arm, allowing me to whip around and glare him.

My eyes widened a little when I finally realized just how intimidating this Career was in person. He towered over me by at least a foot, and he was built like a brick shithouse, (pardon my French). His sharp features were marred only by one scar that ran across the bridge of his nose, which only made them that much more threatening. He seemed to be a little caught off-guard by my appearance as well, surprise flickering in his icy blue eyes as they met my darker ones. I glared, not allowing myself to feel vulnerable by some guy who probably got off to the idea that he scared people based solely off his appearance.

"If we're done here, I'd like to get back to practicing," I said calmly, watching his movement carefully in case I had to run. He smirked, amused by something I must have done.

"Fine by me," he replied, walking confidently past me to grab a spear of his own from the now terrified trainer. "I might as well train too while I'm here."

I cursed like a sailor in my head as I grabbed my own spear, glowering in the direction of the irritating boy from District 2. Who did he think he was? Some big shot from the Capitol?

His face had cleared of all emotion as he concentrated on a dummy fifty feet away. It was a serene look that fit surprisingly well on him, much better than that arrogant smirk at least. He squared his shoulders, the muscles in his arm rippling as he launched the spear right through the center of the dummy and into the one behind it. Satisfaction bloomed from his features, his smug smirk marring the once calm expression he had.

The dull thud that resonated from the second hit made all the tributes nearby turn their heads, only to quickly turn them again when he turned to me, that odd look never leaving his face.

He walked past me, his voice a mere whisper as he murmured, "Just follow through with the shot and you'll hit your mark," into my ear. My eyebrows rose and I turned, staring at his broad back as he went to the sword-fighting station, immediately picking up a sword and hacking into the first dummy he came across, slicing it in half at the waist.

"What?" I murmured, my thought process coming to a halt as I tried to wrap my head around what he said. Why had he given me advice? I didn't get much time to ponder it as a shrill ringing echoed around the large room, drawing everyone's attention to Coach Atala and Sinius.

"Attention, tributes! Sparring sessions will begin in a few moments. I would like all of you to put away what you're working on and follow me over to the mats," Atala said loudly, as if we were all just a bunch of school kids in her classroom.

I launched my spear back at the trainer, barely missing his head by a few inches as the weapon dug into the wall beside his ear. His eyes widened and he gulped, a dark spot appearing at the junction of his legs as he let out a small yelp. I shook my head and continued on my way, thinking about how that guy had the nerve to look at me the way he did when he couldn't even handle the weapon he was supposed to be an 'expert' at being thrown at him. Pathetic.

I caught the boy from 4 looking approvingly at me, a ghost of a smile tilting the corners of his plump lips up. My brow furrowed and I looked back at him in confusion, unsure of what his motives were. His focus was diverted to the blonde bimbo from 1 who appeared from nowhere to hang on his arm, what was supposed to be a sensual smile plastered on her blemish-free face. I rolled my eyes at the desperate display and kept walking, already tired of being around all these other people.

Klew spotted me from her place at the edge of the small crowd and rushed towards me, a relieved look in her odd colored eyes. She hooked her arm in mine and began tugging me towards the gathering of tributes, causing me to raise my eyebrow, but not protest. Hive stood waiting, an anxious look flitting around in his dark eyes as he eyed the mats.

"Glad I caught you when I did, Girl of Flames! You were getting eyed up like a piece of meat out there!" Klew whispered exasperatedly in my ear.

"Great," I grumbled. What did I want to do? Keep a low profile. Not show off. Just…Exist, I guess is the word. What did I end up doing? Catching the eye of not one, not two, but _three_ Careers. And I split from what was probably the only protection I had down here. Notably irritable protection, but he was protection nonetheless. Klew patted my arm reassuringly, a spark of some weird emotion flashing across her face as she looked at me.

"Don't worry about it. I know you're strong enough to get through anything, Girl of Flames," she said brightly, catching me completely off-guard with her words. She seemed to do that a lot to me.

"It's Laurel," I murmured, turning my head to watch Atala. Klew's brow rose, a perplexed look crossing her pale face.

"What?" She deadpanned, the gears turning in her head as she tried to figure out what I said.

"My name is Laurel," I repeated barely above a whisper. Her eyes brightened and she smiled understandingly, making me slightly uncomfortable.

"Thank you," she whispered back, barely finishing speaking before Coach Atala suddenly blows her whistle again, scaring most of the tributes and calling all of us to attention.

"Alright, listen up! We will be randomly drawing two tributes at a time to participate in each sparring session, so don't whine about who you get paired up with. Each session will last until one tribute is pinned for at least ten seconds, go it?" She barked, waiting until we all nodded before continuing. "Good. First up, Glimmer Wickfield and Klew Blackthorne!"

Klew's complexion went pure white as her hand suddenly clenched my arm, that fear showing in her eyes again. I was at a loss. I didn't know how to comfort her or how to get her to release her death grip on my forearm. Glimmer sashayed her way up to their designated mat, giving her hips an extra flick as she threw a wink over her shoulder at who I could only guess was Finnick. My eyes zeroed in on her ankles, which were wobbling due to the impractical high heels she was wearing. That's when I got an idea.

I gently massaged Klew hand until it slowly unclamped itself, mentally telling myself to act like she was my little Lily instead of a just another tribute.

"Klew, listen to me. She can barely stand up straight with her shoes. Use that to your advantage. Aim for her ankles and pin her down. You can do it!" I encouraged quickly, lightly pushing her towards the mats before Atala came over and dragged her out there.

"Okay, Laurel. I'll try," she gulped, making her way up to stand next to the Coach.

"Alright, the rules are simple girls. No biting. No clawing of the eyes, nose or mouth. Get it? Got it? Good. Now, _begin_!"

Glimmer looked like she didn't expect it to start so quickly, giving Klew the full advantage. Clenching her hands into small fists, Klew bent down and preformed a leg sweep, miraculously knocking the much taller girl onto her back. Sadly, Klew didn't follow up her attack and allowed a now pissed-off Glimmer to get back up without a fight.

"Now you've done it," I murmured, flashes of a scared little girl and a much larger boy behind an abandoned building appearing in my mind-sight.

Glimmer snarled like a cat, launching herself at the smaller redhead and forcing her to the ground. She grabbed her hair, yanking it hard and causing Klew to cry out, earning a couple of laughs from Glimmer's district partner.

"One!" Atala called out, that timer thing appearing on her wrist again.

"Buck him off," I whispered to the scared little girl, watching helplessly as her big, dark blue eyes glistened with tears and she tried to beat off the growling older boy while a bunch of grown men stood around, placing bets.

Klew clawed at Glimmer's face, causing little bleeding scratches to appear on the older girl's cheek and for her to scream. She let go of Klew's hair and sat up a little, her hands flying to her cheek to hold in the blood. The smaller redhead bucked, knocking the blonde bimbo off and stopping Coach Atala at five.

Klew tackled Glimmer and straddled her, letting loose a flurry of fists on the beauty queen's only weak spot- her face. Atala began calling out the numbers, her wrist timer's green numbers flaring as she glanced at them.

"One!"

I watched as if in a trance as the little black-haired girl viciously attacked the older boy with her fists, never stopping no matter how much he pled for her to. The men in the crowd were flabbergasted at the sudden turnaround; a few chuckling as they took the other's betting money as she continued on.

"Two!"

Glimmer cursed and yelped in her attempts to push the smaller girl off of her, but Klew wasn't having it. Her frenzied punches grew in intensity as her breathing increased.

"You bitch!" The blonde girl spat, her hands reaching to latch onto Klew's hair.

"Three!"

The little girl let her tears fall as she attacked who used to be her only friend. He had turned on her, introducing her to another side of District 12 she had never previously known. The older boy started coughing as he struggled to breathe past the blood in his broken nose and mouth. She didn't stop.

"Four!"

Klew swatted Glimmer's hands away, adjusting her knees so that they pinned the older girl's arms down. Glimmer made a noise in indignation and tried bucking her hips to get Klew off.

"Five!"

His arms feebly attempted to push her away, but she locked her legs tightly against his sides, anchoring herself in place. The crowd started cheering. She sobbed openly, her childish mind hating what she was doing but unable to stop her primal instinct to survive.

"Six!"

"Why won't you just get off?!" Glimmer shrieked in a high-pitch, causing half the tributes to cover their ears and wince

"Seven!"

The older boy coughed up more blood, coating the little girl's dress with it. She felt disgusting. She felt dirty. She felt empty. Her long hair was falling out of the little pink ribbon holding it in place, shielding her little face from the horrible men surrounding them on all sides.

"Eight!"

Glimmer bent her leg up to her side, her black stiletto heel shining slightly in the light. Klew was oblivious as the blonde gripped the shoe and slid it off her foot, gripping it like it was her lifeline.

"I have to win," Klew muttered under her breath, the words seeming to just float to my ears.

"Nine!"

The hard asphalt dug into her tanned little legs, scraping them with every thrust of her little arms and digging into them, deeper and deeper. The older boy's eyes were swollen and black, his lip split with blood flowing out, his nose broken at an odd angle. But she still did not stop. She couldn't. He would hurt her more if she did. She had to win. Winning was everything. If she didn't win, her family would starve.

"Ten! Match over! Separate the tributes!" Coach Atala called, blowing her whistle to signify the end of the session.

Two weapons trainers came up to the mats and grabbed a girl, pulling them away as they were instructed. Just as Klew was pulled off of Glimmer, the taller girl lashed out with her shoe, the heel aiming for Klew's eye. Luckily, the man pulling Klew yanked her back before Glimmer could do any damage. Coach Atala blew her whistle, shouting as she stomped over to the two.

"Hey! No weapons allowed against other tributes!" She called, nobody but me taking notice of her.

"When we get in the Arena, you're dead. You hear me? DEAD!" Glimmer yelled at the top of her lungs, struggling against her captor savagely. Klew's face went pure white and her mouth hung open in a silent scream of terror.

Gritting my teeth, I did something I immediately knew I would regret later as I stormed over to them and helped up Klew, pushing her behind me slightly as I faced down the raging Career. My anger flared and I tipped my chin up at her in defiance, a snarl curling my lip as I took in her disheveled face and clothes.

"No she won't be," I growled, fists clenching as Glimmer's eyes widened. "If you want to get to her, you're gonna have to go through me first."

"Laurel…" Klew whispered in awe, her hands clenching arm tightly. Glimmer's fury seemed to simmer off into a mock-calm as she tried to school her features in what I figured was supposed to be a smug smirk, but ended up looking more like a grimace.

"My pleasure, _Seam Rat!_" She hissed, eyes narrowing into slits. My fists tightened a fraction, but otherwise I didn't outwardly show how much that really affected me.

"Alright, break it up! This is just supposed to be some simple sparring sessions between the tributes so you can be better prepared in the Arena! Not so that you can make death threats to each other!" Coach Atala announced, looking accusingly at the mess of a Career. "Now, if you tributes would, please exit the sparring area so I can get the next session going."

"Come on, Klew. Hive's waiting," I murmured, sending one last glare at Glimmer before leading Klew away. I briefly caught sight of a pair of steel grey eyes as they silently watched me from the middle of the crowd of kids, that same look of recognition they held during the Reapings prevailing in their depths yet again.

Hive watched us nervously as we approached, a worried expression in his hazel eyes as he eyed both of us up and down. I had a brief thought that he was going to bail on us and go somewhere else cross my mind, but that was quickly shut down as he closed the gap between us quickly, his hands fidgeting.

"Are you guys okay?" He whispered anxiously, his eyes darting to where I presumed Glimmer was cursing the day we were ever born. "Did she hurt you too bad, Klew?"

Klew looked down at herself, the gears working in her head again as she ran through a mental-checklist of what was hurting. After a moment of just staring emptily at the ground, she looked up at the nervous boy and smiled, shaking her head before rubbing it regretfully.

"I'm good, Hive. I think I did more damage to her than she actually did to me, actually. Though, it did feel like she was trying to rip my hair out of my head earlier. That's what hurts the most, I think," she said, the words almost tripping over themselves trying to get out. Hive's face relaxed and a hint of a smile graced his bird-like lips. He turned to me, his eyes brightening a fraction as he smiled sincerely at me.

"Thank you, for what you did up there," he said quietly, his eyes saying more than his words ever could.

"Alright! Let's get ready for round two! Gregory Frimmel and Faren Sovers are up next! Begin!"

* * *

**A/N:** So... Hi. First of all, i'm sorry for, yet again, taking fricking FOREVER to update. Some of it is partially my fault, but the majority was because of what's been going on in my life.

I hope you liked this chapter. My questions for you are as follows: What do you think of Klew and Hive? What about how I portrayed Glimmer? Or Cato, for that matter? I went through a couple re-writes revolving around the Cato part, one of which included a smexy 16 year old from District 4 ;) But, I hope this sufficed.

Ooo, what did you guys think of the sparring session? I was listening to some pretty intense music during that part, so it probably seems more HOLY-GEEZ-WOWZA to me than you guys.

Please answer me in the reviews! Speaking of reviews...

Shout-outs for last chapter's reviews: XxSayaKeikokuRyuuxX, Whatever1993, sweetpea. blue , Lee Ami, and ElecktraMackenzie! And thank you, XxSayaKeikokuRyuuxX, for making your review extra long just for me c: Made me feel all sunshine-y inside~

Thank you to all my Silent Watchers! Stay tuned for Chapter 11! It will be out soon...I think.

Well. School's starting soon. Like, two weeks for me. That sucks. But it'll give me a schedule, which will prompt me to write more to procrastinate from my schoolwork. Yay! :D

Okay.

Bye guys!


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